


Harry Gets a Dog

by Amethyst_Molly, Gastrofiend



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:48:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24541072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amethyst_Molly/pseuds/Amethyst_Molly, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gastrofiend/pseuds/Gastrofiend
Summary: A Small change to make a big change. Severus Snape makes sure that Lupin takes his medicine earlier and thus has no reason to chase him down to the shrieking shack. hijinks ensue.
Comments: 27
Kudos: 105





	1. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs

Author's Note: This is a massive infodump chapter, sorry. It is essentially chapters 18-19. TL;DR is this: Snape goes to take Lupin his medicine like 5-10 minutes earlier. Lupin doesn't leave the Maurader's Map out, and Snape has no reason to go running after everyone at the Whomping Willow. So Everything that happened happened minus Snape. 

Chapter 1: Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs

It took a few seconds for the absurdity of this statement to sink in. Then Ron voiced what Harry was thinking.

"You're both mental."

"Ridiculous!" said Hermione faintly.

"Peter Pettigrew's  _ dead _ !" said Harry. " _ He _ killed him twelve years ago!" He pointed at Black, whose face twitched convulsively.

"I meant to," he growled, his yellow teeth bared, "but little Peter got the better of me… not this time, though!"

And Crookshanks was thrown to the floor as Black lunged at Scabbers; Ron yelled with pain as Black's weight fell on his broken leg.

"Sirius, NO!" Lupin yelled, launching himself forwards and dragging Black away from Ron again, "WAIT! You can't do it just like that -- they need to understand -- we've got to explain --"

"We can explain afterwards!" snarled Black, trying to throw Lupin off. One hand was still clawing the air as it tried to reach Scabbers, who was squealing like a piglet, scratching Ron's face and neck as he tried to escape.

"They've -- got -- a -- right -- to -- know -- everything!" Lupin panted, still trying to restrain Black. "Ron's kept him as a pet! There are parts of it even I don't understand, and Harry -- you owe Harry the truth, Sirius!"

Black stopped struggling, though his hollowed eyes were still fixed on Scabbers, who was clamped tightly under Ron's bitten, scratched, and bleeding hands.

"All right, then," Black said, without taking his eyes off the rat.

"Tell them whatever you like. But make it quick, Remus. I want to commit the murder I was imprisoned for..."

"You're nutters, both of you," said Ron shakily, looking round at Harry and Hermione for support. "I've had enough of this. I'm off."

He tried to heave himself up on his good leg, but Lupin raised his wand again, pointing it at Scabbers.

"You're going to hear me out, Ron," he said quietly. "Just keep a tight hold on Peter while you listen."

"HE'S NOT PETER, HE'S SCABBERS!" Ron yelled, trying to force the rat back into his front pocket, but Scabbers was fighting too hard; Ron swayed and overbalanced, and Harry caught him and pushed him back down to the bed. Then, ignoring Black, Harry turned to Lupin.

"There were witnesses who saw Pettigrew die," he said. "A whole street full of them..."

"They didn't see what they thought they saw!" said Black savagely, still watching Scabbers struggling in Ron's hands.

"Everyone thought Sirius killed Peter," said Lupin, nodding. "I believed it myself -- until I saw the map tonight. Because the Marauder's map never lies...Peter's alive. Ron's holding him, Harry."

Harry looked down at Ron, and as their eyes met, they agreed, silently: Black and Lupin were both out of their minds. Their story made no sense whatsoever. How could Scabbers be Peter Pettigrew? Azkaban must have unhinged Black after all -- but why was Lupin playing along with him?

Then Hermione spoke, in a trembling, would-be calm sort of voice, as though trying to will Professor Lupin to talk sensibly.

"But Professor Lupin… Scabbers can't be Pettigrew… it just can't be true, you know it can't..."

"Why can't it be true?" Lupin said calmly, as though they were in class, and Hermione had simply spotted a problem in an experiment with Grindylows.

"Because... because people would  _ know  _ if Peter Pettigrew had been an Animagus. We did Animagi in class with Professor McGonagall. And I looked them up when I did my homework -- the Ministry of Magic keeps tabs on witches and wizards who can become animals; there's a register showing what animal they become, and their markings and things… and I went and looked Professor McGonagall up on the register, and there have been only seven Animagi this century, and Pettigrew's name wasn't on the list."

Harry had barely had time to marvel inwardly at the effort Hermione put into her homework when Lupin started to laugh.

"Right again, Hermione!" he said. "But the Ministry never knew that here used to be three unregistered Animagi running around Hogwarts."

"If you're going to tell them the story, get a move on, Remus," said Black, who was still watching Scabbers's every desperate move. "I've waited twelve years, I'm not going to wait much longer."

"All right… but you'll need to help me, Sirius," said Lupin, "I only know how it began..." He pushed his greying hair out of his eyes, thought for a moment then said, "This is where all of this starts -- the Shrieking Shack -- with my becoming a werewolf. None of this could have happened if I hadn't been bitten.. .and if I hadn't been so foolhardy..."

He looked sober and tired. Ron started to interrupt, but Hermione said, "Shh!" She was watching Lupin very intently.

"I was a very small boy when I received the bite. My parents tried everything, but in those days there was no cure. The potion that Professor Snape has been making for me is a very recent discovery. It makes me safe, you see. As long as I take it in the week, preceding the full moon, I keep my mind when I transform… I'm able to curl up in my office, a harmless wolf, and wait for the moon to wane again.

"Before the Wolfsbane Potion was discovered, however, I became a fully-fledged monster once a month. It seemed impossible that I would be able to come to Hogwarts. Other parents weren't likely to want their children exposed to me. But then Dumbledore became Headmaster, and he was sympathetic. He said that as long as we took certain precautions, there was no reason I shouldn't come to school..." Lupin sighed and looked directly at Harry.

"I told you, months ago, that the Whomping Willow was planted the year I came to Hogwarts. The truth is that it was planted  _ because  _ I came to Hogwarts. This house" -- Lupin looked miserably around the room, -- "the tunnel that leads to it -- they were built for my use. Once a month, I was smuggled out of the castle, into this place, to transform. The tree was placed at the tunnel mouth to stop anyone coming across me while I was dangerous."

Harry couldn't see where this story was going, but he was listening raptly all the same. The only sound apart from Lupin's voice was Scabbers's frightened squeaking.

"My transformations in those days were -- were terrible. It is very painful to turn into a werewolf. I was separated from humans to bite, so I bit and scratched myself instead. The villagers heard the noise and the screaming and thought they were hearing particularly violent spirits. Dumbledore encouraged the rumour… Even now, when the house has been silent for years, the villagers don't dare approach it...

"But apart from my transformations, I was happier than I had ever been in my life. For the first time, I had friends, three great friends. Sirius Black… Peter Pettigrew… and, of course, your father, Harry -- James Potter."

"Now, my three friends could hardly fail to notice that I disappeared once a month. I made up all sorts of stories. I told them my mother was ill, and that I had to go home to see her… I was terrified they would desert me the moment they found out what I was. But of course, they, like you, Hermione, worked out the truth...

"And they didn't desert me at all. Instead, they did something for me that would make my transformations not only bearable but the best times of my life. They became Animagi."

"My dad too?" said Harry, astounded.

"Yes, indeed," said Lupin. "It took them the best part of three years to work out how to do it. Your father and Sirius here were the cleverest students in the school, and lucky they were because the Animagus transformation can go horribly wrong -- one reason the Ministry keeps a close watch on those attempting to do it. Peter needed all the help he could get from James and Sirius. Finally, in our fifth year, they managed it. They could each turn into a different animal at will."

"But how did that help you?" said Hermione, sounding puzzled.

"They couldn't keep me company as humans, so they kept me company as animals," said Lupin. "A werewolf is only a danger to people. They sneaked out of the castle every month under James's Invisibility Cloak. They transformed… Peter, as the smallest, could slip beneath the Willow's attacking branches and touch the knot that freezes it. They would then slip down the tunnel and join me. Under their influence, I became less dangerous. My body was still wolfish, but my mind seemed to become less so while I was with them."

"Hurry up, Remus," snarled Black, who was still watching Scabbers with a horrible sort of hunger on his face.

"I'm getting there, Sirius, I'm getting there… well, highly exciting possibilities were open to us now that we could all transform. Soon we were leaving the Shrieking Shack and roaming the school grounds and the village by night. Sirius and James transformed into such large animals, they were able to keep a werewolf in check. I doubt whether any Hogwarts students ever found out more about the Hogwarts grounds and Hogsmeade than we did... And that's how we came to write the Marauder's Map, and sign it with our nicknames. Sirius is Padfoot. Peter is Wormtail. James was Prongs."

"What sort of animal --?" Harry began, but Hermione cut him off. 

"That was still really dangerous! Running around in the dark with a werewolf! What if you'd given the others the slip, and bitten somebody?"

"A thought that still haunts me," said Lupin heavily. "And there were near misses, many of them. We laughed about them afterwards. We were young, thoughtless -- carried away with our own cleverness.

"I sometimes felt guilty about betraying Dumbledore's trust, of course… he had admitted me to Hogwarts when no other headmaster would have done so, and he had no idea I was breaking the rules he had set down for my own and others' safety. He never knew I had led three fellow students into becoming Animagi illegally. But I always managed to forget my guilty feelings every time we sat down to plan our next month's adventure. And I haven't changed..."

Lupin's face had hardened, and there was self-disgust in his voice. "All this year, I have been battling with myself, wondering whether I should tell Dumbledore that Sirius was an Animagus. But I didn't do it. Why? Because I was too cowardly. It would have meant admitting that I'd betrayed his trust while I was at school, admitting that I'd led others along with me… and Dumbledore's trust has meant everything to me. He let me into Hogwarts as a boy, and he gave me a job when I have been shunned all my adult life, unable to find paid work because of what I am. And so I convinced myself that Sirius was getting into the school using dark arts he learned from Voldemort, that being an Animagus had nothing to do with it… so, in a way, Snape's been right about me all along."

"Snape?" said Black harshly, taking his eyes off Scabbers; for the first time in minutes and looking up at Lupin. "What's Snape got to do with it?"

"He's here, Sirius," said Lupin heavily. "He's teaching here as well." He looked up at Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

"Professor Snape was at school with us. He fought very hard against my appointment to the Defense Against the Dark Arts job. He has been telling Dumbledore all year that I am not to be trusted. He has his reasons...you see, Sirius here played a trick on him which nearly killed him, a trick which involved me --"

Black made a derisive noise.

"It served him right," he sneered. "Sneaking around, trying to find out what we were up to… hoping he could get us expelled..."

"Severus was very interested in where I went every month," Lupin told Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "We were in the same year, you know, and we -- er -- didn't like each other very much. He especially disliked James. Jealous, I think, of James's talent on the Quidditch field… anyway, Snape had seen me crossing the grounds with Madam Pomfrey one evening as she led me toward the Whomping Willow to transform. Sirius thought it would be -- er -- amusing, to tell Snape all he had to do was prod the knot on the tree trunk with a long stick, and he'd be able to get in after me. Well, of course, Snape tried it -- if he'd got as far as this house, he'd have met a fully grown werewolf -- but your father, who'd heard what Sirius had done, went after Snape and pulled him back, at great risk to his life… Snape glimpsed me, though, at the end of the tunnel. He was forbidden by Dumbledore to tell anybody, but from that time on he knew what I was..."

"So that's why Snape doesn't like you," said Harry slowly, "because he thought you were in on the joke?"

"I imagine so," Remus said. "Now, Storytime is over, I think. Reveal the coward, if you please, Sirius."

"Wait," Hermione said, "How do you know that Scabbers is Peter Pettigrew?"

"Enough questions, you'll see," Sirius said, but Remus held his hand up.

"A fair question and he's not going anywhere," Lupin said. "Sirius, how  _ did _ you find out where he was?"

Black put one of his clawlike hands inside his robes and took out a crumpled piece of paper which he smoothed flat and held it out to show the others. 

It was the photograph of Ron and his family that had appeared in the  _ Daily Prophet _ the previous summer, and there, on Ron's shoulder, was Scabbers.

"How did you get this?" Lupin asked Black, thunderstruck.

"Fudge," said Black, "When he came to inspect Azkaban last year, he gave me his paper. And there was Peter, on the front page… on this boy's shoulder… I knew him at once… how many times had I seen him transform? And the caption said he would be going back to Hogwarts… to where Harry was…"

"My God," said Lupin softly, staring from Scabbers to the picture in the paper and back again. "His front paw…"

"What about it?" said Ron defiantly.

"He's got a toe missing," said Black.

"Of course," Lupin breathed. "So simple… so  _ brilliant…  _ he cut it off himself?"

"Just before he transformed," said Black. "When I cornered him he yelled for the whole street to hear that I'd betrayed Lily and James. Then, before I could curse him, he blew apart the street with the wand behind his back, killed everyone within twenty feet of himself -- and sped down into the sewer with the other rats…"

"Didn't you ever hear, Ron?" said Lupin. "The biggest bit of Peter they found was his finger."

"Look, Scabbers probably fought with another rat or something! He's been in my family for ages, right --"

"Twelve years, in fact," said Lupin, "Didn't you ever wonder why he was living so long?"

"We -- we've been taking good care of him!" said Ron.

"Not looking too good at the moment, though, is he?" said Lupin. "I'd guess he's been losing weight ever since he heard Sirius was on the loose again…"

"He's been scared of that mad cat!" said Ron, nodding toward Crookshanks, who was still purring on the bed.

But that wasn't right, Harry thought suddenly… Scabbers had been looking ill before He met Crookshanks… ever since Ron's return from Egypt… since Black had escaped...

"This cat isn't mad," said Black hoarsely. He reached out a bony hand and stroked Crookshanks's fluffy head. "He's the most intelligent of his kind I've ever met. He recognized Peter for what he was right away. And when he met me, he knew I was no dog. It was a while before he trusted me… Finally, I managed to communicate to him what I was after, and he's been helping me..."

"What do you mean?" breathed Hermione.

"He tried to bring Peter to me, but couldn't... so he stole the passwords into Gryffindor Tower for me... As I understand it, he took them from a boy's bedside table..."

Harry's brain seemed to be sagging under the weight of what he was hearing. It was absurd... and yet...

"But Peter got wind of what was going on and ran for it..." croaked Black. "This cat -- Crookshanks, did you call him? -- told me Peter had left blood on the sheets... I supposed he bit himself... Well, faking his own death had worked once..."

These words jolted Harry to his senses.

"And why did he fake his death?" he said furiously. "Because he knew you were about to kill him like you killed my parents!"

"No," said Lupin, "Harry-"

"And now you've come to finish him off!"

"Yes, I have," said Black, with an evil look at Scabbers.

"Then I should've let Snape take you!" Harry shouted.

"Harry," said Lupin hurriedly, "don't you see? All this time we've thought Sirius betrayed your parents, and Peter tracked him down -- but it was the other way around, don't you see?  _ Peter  _ betrayed your mother and father -- Sirius tracked  _ Peter  _ down --"

"THAT'S NOT TRUE!" Harry yelled. "HE WAS THEIR SECRET-KEEPER! HE SAID SO BEFORE YOU TURNED UP. HE SAID HE KILLED THEM!"

He was pointing at Black, who shook his head slowly; the sunken eyes were suddenly over bright.

"Harry... I as good as killed them," he croaked. "I persuaded Lily and James to change to Peter at the last moment, persuaded them to use him as Secret-Keeper instead of me... I'm to blame, I know it... The night they died, I'd arranged to check on Peter, make sure he was still safe, but when I arrived at his hiding place, he'd gone. Yet there was no sign of a struggle. It didn't feel right. I was scared. I set out for your parents' house straight away. And when I saw their house, destroyed, and their bodies... I realized what Peter must've done... what I'd done..."

His voice broke. He turned away.

"Enough of this," said Lupin, and there was a steely note in his voice Harry had never heard before. "There's one certain way to prove what really happened. Ron, give me that rat."

"What are you going to do with him if I give him to you?" Ron asked Lupin tensely.

"Force him to show himself," said Lupin. "If he really is a rat, it won't hurt him."

Ron hesitated. Then at long last, he held out Scabbers and Lupin took him. Scabbers began to squeak without stopping, twisting and turning, his tiny black eyes bulging in his head. "Ready, Sirius?" said Lupin.

Black still had Ron's wand that he'd stolen when he'd dragged Ron into the Shrieking Shack. He approached Lupin and the struggling rat, and his wet eyes suddenly seemed to be burning in his face.

"Together?" he said quietly.

"I think so," said Lupin, holding Scabbers tightly in one hand and his wand in the other. "On the count of three. One -- two -- THREE!" 

A flash of blue-white light erupted from both wands; for a moment, Scabbers was frozen in midair, his small grey form twisting madly -- Ron yelled -- the rat fell and hit the floor. There was another blinding flash of light and then --

It was like watching a speeded-up film of a growing tree. A head was shooting upward from the ground; limbs were sprouting; a moment later, a man was standing where Scabbers had been, cringing and wringing his hands. Crookshanks was spitting and snarling on the bed; the hair on his back was standing up.

He was a very short man, hardly taller than Harry and Hermione. His thin, colourless hair was unkempt and there was a large bald patch on top. He had the shrunken appearance of a plump man who has lost a lot of weight in a short time. His skin looked grubby, almost like Scabbers's fur, and something of the rat lingered around his pointed nose and his very small, watery eyes. He looked around at them all, his breathing fast and shallow. Harry saw his eyes dart to the door and back again.

"Well, hello, Peter," said Lupin pleasantly, as though rats frequently erupted into old school friends around him. "Long time, no see."

"S--Sirius… R--Remus..." Even Pettigrew's voice was squeaky. Again, his eyes darted toward the door. "My friends… my old friends..."

Black's wand arm rose, but Lupin seized him around the wrist, gave him a warning look, then turned again to Pettigrew, his voice light and casual.

"We've been having a little chat, Peter, about what happened the night Lily and James died. You might have missed the finer points while you were squeaking around down there on the bed --"

"Remus," gasped Pettigrew, and Harry could see beads of sweat breaking out over his pasty face, "you don't believe him, do you...? He tried to kill me, Remus..."

"So we've heard," said Lupin, more coldly. "I'd like to clear up one or two little matters with you, Peter, if you'll be so --"

"He's come to try and kill me again!" Pettigrew squeaked suddenly, pointing at Black, and Harry saw that he used his middle finger, because his index was missing. "He killed Lily and James and now he's going to kill me too… You've got to help me, Remus..."

Black's face looked more skull-like than ever as he stared at Pettigrew with his fathomless eyes.

"No one's going to try and kill you until we've sorted a few things out," said Lupin.

"Sorted things out?" squealed Pettigrew, looking wildly about him once more, eyes taking in the boarded windows and, again, the only door. "I knew he'd come after me! I knew he'd be back for me! I've been waiting for this for twelve years!"

"You knew Sirius was going to break out of Azkaban?" said Lupin, his brow furrowed. "When nobody has ever done it before?"

"He's got dark powers the rest of us can only dream of!" Pettigrew shouted shrilly. "How else did he get out of there? I suppose He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named taught him a few tricks!"

Black started to laugh, a horrible, mirthless laugh that filled the whole room.

"Voldemort, teach me tricks?" he said.

Pettigrew flinched as though Black had brandished a whip at him.

"What, scared to hear your old master's name?" said Black. "I don't blame you, Peter. His lot aren't very happy with you, are they?"

"Don't know what you mean, Sirius --" muttered Pettigrew, his breathing faster than ever. His whole face was shining with sweat now.

"You haven't been hiding from  _ me  _ for twelve years," said Black. "You've been hiding from Voldemort's old supporters. I heard things in Azkaban, Peter… They all think you're dead, or you'd have to answer to them… I've heard them screaming all sorts of things in their sleep. Sounds like they think the double-crosser double-crossed them. Voldemort went to the Potters' on your information… and Voldemort met his downfall there. And not all Voldemort's supporters ended up in Azkaban, did they? There are still plenty out here, biding their time, pretending they've seen the error of their ways. If they ever got wind that you were still alive, Peter --"

"Don't know… what you're talking about..." said Pettigrew again, more shrilly than ever. He wiped his face on his sleeve and looked up at Lupin. "You don't believe this -- this madness, Remus --"

"I must admit, Peter, I have difficulty in understanding why an innocent man would want to spend twelve years as a rat," said Lupin evenly.

"Innocent, but scared!" squealed Pettigrew. "If Voldemort's supporters were after me, it was because I put one of their best men in Azkaban -- the spy, Sirius Black!"

Black's face contorted.

"How dare you," he growled, sounding suddenly like the bear-sized dog he had been. "I, a spy for Voldemort? When did I ever sneak around people who were stronger and more powerful than myself? But you, Peter -- I'll never understand why I didn't see you were the spy from the start. You always liked big friends who'd look after you, didn't you? It used to be us… me and Remus… and James..."

Pettigrew wiped his face again; he was almost panting for breath.

"Me, a spy… must be out of your mind… never… don't know how you can say such a --"

"Lily and James only made you Secret-Keeper because I suggested it," Black hissed, so venomously that Pettigrew took a step backwards. "I thought it was the perfect plan… a bluff… Voldemort would be sure to come after me, would never dream they'd use a weak, talentless thing like you… It must have been the finest moment of your miserable life, telling Voldemort you could hand him the Potters."

Pettigrew was muttering distractedly; Harry caught words like "far-fetched" and "lunacy," but he couldn't help paying more attention to the ashen colour of Pettigrew's face and the way his eyes continued to dart toward the windows and door.

"Professor Lupin?" said Hermione timidly. "Can -- can I say something?"

"Certainly, Hermione," said Lupin courteously.

"Well -- Scabbers -- I mean, this -- this man -- he's been sleeping in Harry's dormitory for three years. If he's working for You-Know-Who, how come he never tried to hurt Harry before now?"

"There!" said Pettigrew shrilly, pointing at Ron with his maimed hand. "Thank you! You see, Remus? I have never hurt a hair of Harry's head! Why should I?"

"I'll tell you why," said Black. "Because you never did anything for anyone unless you could see what was in it for you. Voldemort's been in hiding for fifteen years, they say he's half dead. You weren't about to commit murder right under Albus Dumbledore's nose, for a wreck of a wizard who'd lost all of his power, were you? You'd want to be quite sure he was the biggest bully in the playground before you went back to him, wouldn't you? Why else did you find a wizard family to take you in? Keeping an ear out for news, weren't you, Peter? Just in case your old protector regained strength, and it was safe to rejoin him..."

Pettigrew opened his mouth and closed it several times. He seemed to have lost the ability to talk.

"Er -- Mr. Black -- Sirius?" said Hermione.

Black jumped at being addressed like this and stared at Hermione as though he had never seen anything quite like her.

"If you don't mind me asking, how -- how did you get out of Azkaban, if you didn't use Dark Magic?"

"Thank you!" gasped Pettigrew, nodding frantically at her. "Exactly! Precisely what I --"

But Lupin silenced him with a look. Black was frowning slightly at Hermione, but not as though he were annoyed with her. He seemed to be pondering his answer.

"I don't know how I did it," he said slowly. "I think the only reason I never lost my mind is that I knew I was innocent. That wasn't a happy thought, so the Dementors couldn't suck it out of me… but it kept me sane and knowing who I am… helped me keep my powers… so when it all became… too much… I could transform in my cell… become a dog. Dementors can't see, you know..." He swallowed. "They feel their way toward people by feeding off their emotions… They could tell that my feelings were less -- less human, less complex when I was a dog… but they thought, of course, that I was losing my mind like everyone else in there, so it didn't trouble them. But I was weak, very weak, and I had no hope of driving them away from me without a wand...

"But then I saw Peter in that picture… I realized he was at Hogwarts with Harry… perfectly positioned to act, if one hint reached his ears that the Dark Side was gathering strength again..."

Pettigrew was shaking his head, mouthing noiselessly, but staring all the while at Black as though hypnotized.

"...ready to strike at the moment he could be sure of allies… and to deliver the last Potter to them. if he gave them Harry, who'd dare say he'd betrayed Lord Voldemort? He'd be welcomed back with honours...

"So you see, I had to do something. I was the only one who knew Peter was still alive..."

Harry remembered what Mr. Weasley had told Mrs. Wealsey. 'The guards say he's been talking in his sleep... always the same words... ' _ He's at Hogwarts _ .''

"It was as if someone had lit a fire In my head, and the Dementors couldn't destroy it… It wasn't a happy feeling… it was an obsession… but it gave me strength, it cleared my mind. So, one night when they opened my door to bring food, I slipped past them as a dog… It's so much harder for them to sense animal emotions that they were confused… I was thin, very thin… thin enough to slip through the bars… I swam as a dog back to the mainland… I journeyed north and slipped into the Hogwarts grounds as a dog. I've been living in the forest ever since, except when I came to watch the Quidditch, of course. You fly as well as your father did, Harry..."

He looked at Harry, who did not look away.

"Believe me," croaked Black. "Believe me, Harry. I never betrayed James and Lily. I would have died before I betrayed them."

And at long last, Harry believed him. Throat too tight to speak, he nodded.

"No!"

Pettigrew had fallen to his knees as though Harry's nod had been his own death sentence. He shuffled forward on his knees, grovelling, his hands clasped in front of him as though praying.

"Sirius -- it's me… it's Peter… your friend… you wouldn't --"

Black kicked out and Pettigrew recoiled.

"There's enough filth on my robes without you touching them," said Black.

"Remus!" Pettigrew squeaked, turning to Lupin instead, writhing imploringly in front of him. "You don't believe this -- wouldn't Sirius have told you they'd changed the plan?"

"Not if he thought I was the spy, Peter," said Lupin. "I assume that's why you didn't tell me, Sirius?" he said casually over Pettigrew's head.

"Forgive me, Remus," said Black.

"Not at all, Padfoot, old friend," said Lupin, who was now rolling up his sleeves. "And will you, in turn, forgive me for believing  _ you  _ were the spy?"

"Of course," said Black, and the ghost of a grin flitted across his gaunt face. He, too, began rolling up his sleeves. "Shall we kill him together?"

"Yes, I think so," said Lupin grimly.

"You wouldn't… you won't..." gasped Pettigrew. And he scrambled around to Ron.

"Ron… haven't I been a good friend… a good pet? You won't let them kill me, Ron, will you… you're on my side, aren't you?"

But Ron was staring at Pettigrew with the utmost revulsion.

"I let you sleep in my  _ bed _ !" he said.

"Kind boy… kind master..." Pettigrew crawled toward Ron "You won't let them do it… I was your rat… I was a good pet..."

"If you made a better rat than a human, it's not much to boast about, Peter," said Black harshly. Ron, going still paler with pain, wrenched his broken leg out of Pettigrew's reach. Pettigrew turned on his knees, staggered forward, and seized the hem of Hermione's robes.

"Sweet girl… clever girl… you -- you won't let them… Help me..."

Hermione pulled her robes out of Pettigrew's clutching hands and backed away against the wall, looking horrified.

Pettigrew knelt, trembling uncontrollably, and turned his head slowly toward Harry.

"Harry… Harry… you look just like your father… just like him..."

"HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO HARRY?" roared Black. "HOW DARE YOU FACE HIM? HOW DARE YOU TALK ABOUT JAMES IN FRONT OF HIM?"

"Harry," whispered Pettigrew, shuffling toward him, hands outstretched. "Harry, James wouldn't have wanted me killed… James would have understood, Harry… he would have shown me mercy..."

Both Black and Lupin strode forward, seized Pettigrew's shoulders, and threw him backwards onto the floor. He sat there, twitching with terror, staring up at them.

"You sold Lily and James to Voldemort," said Black, who was shaking too. "Do you deny it?"

Pettigrew burst into tears. It was horrible to watch, like an oversized, balding baby, cowering on the floor.

"Sirius, Sirius, what could I have done? The Dark Lord… you have no idea… he has weapons you can't imagine… I was scared, Sirius, I was never brave like you and Remus and James. I never meant it to happen… He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named forced me --"

"DON'T LIE!" bellowed Black. "YOU'D BEEN PASSING INFORMATION TO HIM FOR A YEAR BEFORE LILY AND JAMES DIED! YOU WERE HIS SPY!"

"He -- he was taking over everywhere!" gasped Pettigrew. "Wh-what was there to be gained by refusing him?"

"What was there to be gained by fighting the most evil wizard who has ever existed?" said Black, with a terrible fury in his face. "Only innocent lives, Peter!"

"You don't understand!" whined Pettigrew. "He would have killed me, Sirius!"

"THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED!" roared Black. "DIED RATHER THAN BETRAY YOUR FRIENDS, AS WE WOULD HAVE DONE FOR YOU!"

Black and Lupin stood shoulder to shoulder, wands raised.

"You should have realized," said Lupin quietly, "if Voldemort didn't kill you, we would. Good-bye, Peter."

Hermione covered her face with her hands and turned to the wall.

"NO!" Harry yelled. He ran forward, placing himself in front Pettigrew, facing the wands. "You can't kill him," he said breathlessly. "You can't."

Black and Lupin both looked staggered.

"Harry, this piece of vermin is the reason you have no parents," Black snarled. "This cringing bit of filth would have seen you die too, without turning a hair. You heard him. His own stinking skin meant more to him than your whole family."

"I know," Harry panted. "We'll take him up to the castle. We'll hand him over to the Dementors… He can go to Azkaban… but don't kill him."

"Harry!" gasped Pettigrew, and he flung his arms around Harry's knees. "You -- thank you -- it's more than I deserve -- thank you --"

"Get off me," Harry spat, throwing Pettigrew's hands off him in disgust. "I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing it because -- I don't reckon my dad would've wanted them to become killers -- just for you."

No one moved or made a sound except Pettigrew, whose breath was coming in wheezes as he clutched his chest. Black and Lupin were looking at each other. Then, with one movement, they lowered their wands.

"You're the only person who has the right to decide, Harry," said Black. "But think... think what he did..."

"He can go to Azkaban," Harry repeated. "If anyone deserves that place, he does..."

Pettigrew was still wheezing behind him.

"Very well," said Lupin. "Stand aside, Harry."

Harry hesitated.

"I'm going to tie him up," said Lupin. "That's all, I swear."

Harry stepped out of the way. Thin cords shot from Lupin's wand this time, and next moment, Pettigrew was wriggling on the floor, bound and gagged.

"But if you transform, Peter," growled Black, his wand pointing at Pettigrew too, "we will kill you. You agree, Harry?"

Harry looked down at the pitiful figure on the floor and nodded so that Pettigrew could see him.

"Right," said Lupin, suddenly businesslike. "Ron, I can't mend bones nearly as well as Madam Pomfrey, so I think it's best if we just strap your leg up until we can get you to the hospital wing."

He hurried over to Ron, bent down, tapped Ron's leg with his wand, and muttered, "Ferula." Bandages spun up Ron's leg, strapping it tightly to a splint. Lupin helped him to his feet; Ron put his weight gingerly on the leg and didn't wince.

"That's better," he said. "Thanks."

"Two of us should be chained to this," said Black, nudging Pettigrew with his toe. "Just to make sure."

"I'll do it," said Lupin.

"And me," said Ron savagely, limping forward.

Black conjured heavy manacles from thin air; soon Pettigrew was upright again, left arm chained to Lupin's right, right arm to Ron's left. Ron's face was set. He seemed to have taken Scabbers's true identity as a personal insult. Crookshanks leapt lightly off the bed and led the way out of the room, his bottlebrush tail held jauntily high.

  
  



	2. Hermione's Secret

AN: So this is another infodump chapter, more fallout of what happens if Snape doesn't run after everyone and interfere with things. Changes in chapters 20-21 HPPA. It is too much, you don't get a TL;DR for this. You actually have to read starting now, if you entirely skipped the last chapter. 

Chapter 2: Hermione's Secret

"You know what this means?" Black said abruptly to Harry as they made their slow progress along the tunnel. "Turning Pettigrew in?"

"You're free," said Harry.

"Yes..." said Black. "But I'm also -- I don't know if anyone ever told you -- I'm your godfather."

"Yeah, I knew that," said Harry.

"Well... your parents appointed me your guardian," said Black stiffly. "If anything happened to them..."

Harry waited. Did Black mean what he thought he meant?

"I'll understand, of course, if you want to stay with your aunt and uncle," said Black. "But... well... think about it. Once my name's cleared... if you wanted a... a different home..."

Some sort of explosion took place in the pit of Harry's stomach.

"What -- live with you?" he said, accidentally cracking his head on a bit of rock protruding from the ceiling. "Leave the Dursleys?"

"Of course, I thought you wouldn't want to," said Black quickly. "I understand, I just thought I'd --"

"Are you insane?" said Harry, his voice easily as croaky as Black's. "Of course I want to leave the Dursleys! Have you got a house? When can I move in?"

"You want to?" he said. "You mean it?"

"Yeah, I mean it!" said Harry.

Black's gaunt face broke into the first true smile Harry had seen upon it. The difference it made was startling, as though a person ten years younger were shining through the starved mask; for a moment, he was recognizable as the man who had laughed at Harry's parents' wedding.

They did not speak again until they had reached the end of the tunnel. Crookshanks darted up first; he had evidently pressed his paw to the knot on the trunk, because Lupin, Pettigrew, and Ron clambered upward without any sound of savaging branches.

Sirius waited for Harry and Hermione to pass. At last, all of them were out.

The grounds were very dark now; the only light came from the distant windows of the castle. Without a word, they set off. Pettigrew was still wheezing and occasionally whimpering. Harry's mind was buzzing. He was going to leave the Dursleys. He was going to live with Sirius Black, his parents' best friend... He felt dazed... What would happen when he told the Dursleys he was going to live with the convict they'd seen on television...!

"One wrong move, Peter," said Lupin threateningly ahead. His wand was still pointed sideways at Pettigrew's chest.

Silently they tramped through the grounds, the castle lights growing slowly larger. And then -

A cloud shifted. There were suddenly dim shadows on the ground. Their party was bathed in moonlight.

Lupin, Pettigrew, and Ron stopped abruptly. Black froze. He flung out one arm to make Harry and Hermione stop. There was a massive flash from the trees.

It happened all in an instant. Lupin started to shift down into a canine shape, Pettigrew dived for Lupin's dropped wand. Ron, unsteady on his bandaged leg, fell. There was a bang, a burst of light -- and Ron lay motionless on the ground. Another bang -- Crookshanks flew into the air and back to the earth in a heap.

" _Expelliarmus_ ," Harry yelled, pointing his own wand at Pettigrew; Lupin's wand flew high into the air and out of sight. "Stay where you are!" Harry shouted, running forward.

Too late. Pettigrew had transformed. Harry saw his bald tail whip through the manacle on Ron's outstretched arm and heard a scurrying through the grass.

"Sirius, he's gone, Pettigrew transformed!" Harry yelled.

"Damn," Black swore softly. "Get Ron to the Nurse's, I'll take care of Remus," he said with a sigh. 

Harry and Hermione dashed over to Ron.

"What did he do to him?" Hermione whispered. Ron's eyes were only half-closed, his mouth hung open; he was definitely alive, they could hear him breathing, but he didn't seem to recognize them.

"I don't know..."

They got Ron up and walking, and headed over toward the school. Sirius and the werewolf turned around and headed back to the Whomping Willow. 

Harry turned around, checking on his father's friends, but they had disappeared back into the tunnel. He set to earnest getting the dazed Ron back to the school where he could get treated for his leg and whatever Peter Pettigrew had done to him. 

They arrived without delay at the front door of the castle, where they met with Professor Dumbledore, who happened to be speaking with Madam Pomfrey.

"Oh, dear," she exclaimed as she looked Ron over. A snap of her fingers and there was a litter floating beside her. "Put him there," she directed and she went on along behind the floating Ron who started muttering things to her. 

"Well, what has you three out so late tonight, hmm?" 

"We, you see, we went to go see if we could cheer up Hagrid," Harry said. 

"A noble if slightly misguided quest," Dumbledore agreed.

"And when we got there we found Scabbers in Hagrid's milk jug."

"And so we snuck out the back as you and the minister were coming in the front," said Hermione. 

"But then Ron got dragged under the Whomping Willow."

"And we found out that Scabbers isn't Scabbers."

"And that he was Peter Pettigrew, and he was an unregistered Animagus." 

"And we tried to bring him to the castle."

"But he escaped, and knocked Ron senseless."

"I see," Dumbledore said. "That is a lot of information that you managed to gather in one night. And without evidence, that would be difficult to prove. Without Pettigrew, alive or dead, we have no chance of overturning Sirius's sentence."

"But you believe us."

"Yes, I do," said Dumbledore quietly. "But I have no power to make other men see the truth, or to overrule the Minister of Magic..."

Harry stared up into the grave face and felt as though the ground beneath him were falling sharply away. He had grown used to the idea that Dumbledore could solve anything. He had expected Dumbledore to pull some amazing solution out of the air. But no ... their last hope was gone.

"What we need," said Dumbledore slowly, and his light blue eyes moved from Harry to Hermione, "is more time."

"But --" Hermione began. And then her eyes became very round. "OH!"

"Two turns, Ms. Granger. And remember the law, you must not be seen. Both of you, must not be seen. Good luck."

"Good luck?" Harry repeated as Dumbledore moved off back into the school. "Two turns? What's he talking about? What are we supposed to do?"

Hermione had moved off into a corner out of the way of everything, and she was fumbling with the neck of her robes, pulling from beneath them a very long, very fine gold chain.

"Harry, come here," she said urgently. "Quick!"

Harry moved toward her, completely bewildered. She was holding the chain out. He saw a tiny, sparkling hourglass hanging from it.

"Here --"

She had thrown the chain around his neck too.

"Ready?" she said breathlessly.

"What are we doing?" Harry said, completely lost.

Hermione turned the hourglass over two times.

The dark entryway dissolved. Harry had the sensation that he was flying very fast, backward. A blur of colors and shapes rushed past him, his ears were pounding, he tried to yell but couldn't hear his own voice --

And then he felt solid ground beneath his feet, and everything came into focus again --

He was standing next to Hermione in the deserted entrance hall and a stream of golden sunlight was falling across the paved floor from the open front doors. He looked wildly around at Hermione, the chain of the hourglass cutting into his neck.

"Hermione, what --?"

"In here!" Hermione seized Harry's arm and dragged him across the hall to the door of a broom closet; she opened it, pushed him inside among the buckets and mops, then slammed the door behind them.

"What -- how -- Hermione, what happened?"

"We've gone back in time," Hermione whispered, lifting the chain off Harry's neck in the darkness. "Two hours back..."

Harry found his own leg and gave it a very hard pinch. It hurt a lot, which seemed to rule out the possibility that he was having a very bizarre dream.

"But --"

"Shh! Listen! Someone's coming! I think -- I think it might be us!' Hermione had her ear pressed against the cupboard door.

"Footsteps across the hall... yes, I think it's us going down to Hagrid's!"

"Are you telling me," Harry whispered, "that we're here in this cupboard and we're out there too?"

"Yes," said Hermione, her ear still glued to the cupboard door. "I'm sure it's us. It doesn't sound like more than three people... and we're walking slowly because we're under the Invisibility Cloak -- "

She broke off, still listening intently.

"We've gone down the front steps..."

Hermione sat down on an upturned bucket, looking desperately anxious, but Harry wanted a few questions answered.

"Where did you get that hourglass thing?"

"It's called a Time-Turner," Hermione whispered, "and I got it from Professor McGonagall on our first day back. I've been using it all year to get to all my lessons. Professor McGonagall made me swear I wouldn't tell anyone. She had to write all sorts of letters to the Ministry of Magic so I could have one. She had to tell them that I was a model student and that I'd never, ever use it for anything except my studies... I've been turning it back so I could do hours over again, that's how I've been doing several lessons at once, see? But...

"Harry, I don't understand what Dumbledore wants us to do. Why did he tell us to go back two hours? How's that going to help Sirius?"

"He said we needed evidence. Remember that flash right before Professor Lupin changed? I think that may have been Colin Creevey's camera--we can borrow it, I'm sure he wouldn't mind."

Hermione absently agreed, then mused, "There must be something that happened around now he wants us to change," he said slowly. "What happened? We were walking down to Hagrid's two hours ago..."

"This is two hours ago, and we are walking down to Hagrid's," said Hermione. "We just heard ourselves leaving..."

Harry frowned; he felt as though he were screwing up his whole brain in concentration.

"Dumbledore just said -- just said we could save more than one innocent life..." And then it hit him. "Hermione, we're going to save Buckbeak!"

"But -- how will that help Sirius?"

"I don't know," Harry said, "But it's the right thing to do, anyway."

"Alright, let's go save Buckbeak, then we can circle back and borrow Colin's camera, and we can go get our evidence."

"Well, we've got to try, haven't we?" said Harry. He stood up and pressed his ear against the door. "Doesn't sound like anyone's there... Come on, let's go."

Harry pushed open the closet door. The entrance hall was deserted. As quietly and quickly as they could, they darted out of the closet and down the stone steps. The shadows were already lengthening, the tops of the trees in the Forbidden Forest gilded once more with gold.

"If anyone's looking out of the window --" Hermione squeaked, looking up at the castle behind them.

"We'll run for it," said Harry determinedly. "Straight into the forest, all right? We'll have to hide behind a tree or something and keep a lookout --"

"Okay, but we'll go around by the greenhouses!' said Hermione breathlessly. "We need to keep out of sight of Hagrid's front door, or we'll see us! We must be nearly at Hagrid's by now!"

Still working out what she meant, Harry set off at a sprint, Hermione behind him. They tore across the vegetable gardens to the greenhouses, paused for a moment behind them, then set off again, fast as they could, skirting around the Whomping Willow, tearing toward the shelter of the forest...

Safe in the shadows of the trees, Harry turned around; seconds later, Hermione arrived beside him, panting.

"Right," she gasped. "We need to sneak over to Hagrid's... Keep out of sight, Harry..."

They made their way silently through the trees, keeping to the very edge of the forest. Then, as they glimpsed the front of Hagrid's house, they heard a knock upon his door. They moved quickly behind a wide oak trunk and peered out from either side. Hagrid had appeared in his doorway, shaking and white, looking around to see who had knocked. And Harry heard his own voice.

"It's us. We're wearing the Invisibility Cloak. Let us in and we can take it off."

"Yeh shouldn've come!" Hagrid whispered. He stood back, then shut the door quickly.

"This is the weirdest thing we've ever done," Harry said fervently.

"Let's move along a bit," Hermione whispered. "We need to get nearer to Buckbeak!"

They crept through the trees until they saw the nervous Hippogriff, tethered to the fence around Hagrid's pumpkin patch.

"Now?" Harry whispered.

"No!" said Hermione. "If we steal him now, those Committee people will think Hagrid set him free! We've got to wait until they've seen he's tied outside!"

"That's going to give us about sixty seconds," said Harry. This was starting to seem impossible.

At that moment, there was a crash of breaking china from inside Hagrid's cabin.

"That's Hagrid breaking the milk jug," Hermione whispered. "I'm going to find Scabbers in a moment --"

Sure enough, a few minutes later, they heard Hermione's shriek of surprise.

"Hermione," said Harry suddenly, "what if we -- we just run in there and grab Pettigrew --"

"No!" said Hermione in a terrified whisper. "Don't you understand? We're breaking one of the most important wizarding laws! Nobody's supposed to change time, nobody! You heard Dumbledore, if we're seen --"

"We'd only be seen by ourselves and Hagrid!"

"Harry, what do you think you'd do if you saw yourself bursting into Hagrid's house?" said Hermione.

"I'd -- I'd think I'd gone mad," said Harry, "or I'd think there was some Dark Magic going on --"

"Exactly! You wouldn't understand, you might even attack yourself! Don't you see? Professor McGonagall told me what awful things have happened when wizards have meddled with time... Loads of them ended up killing their past or future selves by mistake!"

"Okay!" said Harry. "It was just an idea, I just thought --"

But Hermione nudged him and pointed toward the castle. Harry moved his head a few inches to get a clear view of the distant front doors. Dumbledore, Fudge, the old Committee member, and Macnair the executioner were coming down the steps.

"We're about to come out!" Hermione breathed.

And sure enough, moments later, Hagrid's back door opened, and Harry saw himself, Ron, and Hermione walking out of it with Hagrid. It was, without a doubt, the strangest sensation of his life, standing behind the tree, and watching himself in the pumpkin patch.

"It's Okay, Beaky, it's okay..." Hagrid said to Buckbeak. Then he turned to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "Go on. Get goin'."

"Hagrid, we can't --"

"We'll tell them what really happened --"

"They can't kill him --"

"Go! It's bad enough without you lot in trouble an' all!"

Harry watched the Hermione in the pumpkin patch throw the Invisibility Cloak over him and Ron.

"Go quick. Don' listen..."

There was a knock on Hagrid's front door. The execution party had arrived. Hagrid turned around and headed back into his cabin, leaving the back door ajar. Harry watched the grass flatten in patches all around the cabin and heard three pairs of feet retreating. He, Ron, and Hermione had gone... but the Harry and Hermione hidden in the trees could now hear what was happening inside the cabin through the back door.

"Where is the beast?" came the cold voice of Macnair.

"Out -- outside," Hagrid croaked.

Harry pulled his head out of sight as Macnair's face appeared at Hagrid's window, staring out at Buckbeak. Then they heard Fudge.

"We -- er -- have to read you the official notice of execution, Hagrid. I'll make it quick. And then you and Macnair need to sign it. Macnair, You're supposed to listen too, that's procedure --"

Macnair's face vanished from the window. It was now or never.

"Wait here," Harry whispered to Hermione. "I'll do it."

As Fudge's voice started again, Harry darted out from behind his tree, vaulted the fence into the pumpkin patch, and approached Buckbeak.

"It is the decision of the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures that the Hippogriff Buckbeak, hereafter called the condemned, shall he executed on the sixth of June at sundown --"

Careful not to blink, Harry stared up into Buckbeak's fierce orange eyes once more and bowed. Buckbeak sank to his scaly knees and then stood up again. Harry began to fumble with the knot of rope tying Buckbeak to the fence.

"... sentenced to execution by beheading, to be carried out by the Committee's appointed executioner, Walden Macnair..."

"Come on, Buckbeak," Harry murmured, "come on, we're going to help you. Quietly... quietly..."

"... as witnessed below. Hagrid, you sign here..."

Harry threw all his weight onto the rope, but Buckbeak had dug in his front feet.

"Well, let's get this over with," said the reedy voice of the Committee member from inside Hagrid's cabin. "Hagrid, perhaps it will be better if you stay inside --"

"No, I -- I wan' ter be with him... I don' wan' him ter be alone --"

Footsteps echoed from within the cabin.

"Buckbeak, move!" Harry hissed.

Harry tugged harder on the rope around Buckbeak's neck. The Hippogriff began to walk, rustling its wings irritably. They were still ten feet away from the forest, in plain view of Hagrid's back door. "One moment, please, Macnair," came Dumbledore's voice. "You need to sign too." The footsteps stopped. Harry heaved on the rope. Buckbeak snapped his beak and walked a little faster.

Hermione's white face was sticking out from behind a tree.

"Harry, hurry!" she mouthed.

Harry could still hear Dumbledore's voice talking from within the cabin. He gave the rope another wrench. Buckbeak broke into a grudging trot. They had reached the trees...

"Quick! Quick!" Hermione moaned, darting out from behind her tree, seizing the rope too and adding her weight to make Buckbeak move faster. Harry looked over his shoulder; they were now blocked from sight; they couldn't see Hagrid's garden at all.

"Stop!" he whispered to Hermione. "They might hear us."

Hagrid's back door had opened with a bang. Harry, Hermione, and Buckbeak stood quite still; even the Hippogriff seemed to be listening intently. Silence... then --

"Where is it?" said the reedy voice of the Committee member. "Where is the beast?"

"It was tied here!" said the executioner furiously. "I saw it! Just here!"

"How extraordinary," said Dumbledore. There was a note of amusement in his voice.

"Beaky!" said Hagrid huskily.

There was a swishing noise, and the thud of an axe. The executioner seemed to have swung it into the fence in anger. And then came the howling, and this time they could hear Hagrid's words through his sobs.

"Gone! Gone! Bless his little beak, he's gone! Musta pulled himself free! Beaky, yeh clever boy!"

Buckbeak started to strain against the rope, trying to get back to Hagrid. Harry and Hermione tightened their grip and dug their heels into the forest floor to stop him.

"Someone untied him!" the executioner was snarling. "We should search the grounds, the forest."

"Macnair, if Buckbeak has indeed been stolen, do you really think the thief will have led him away on foot?" said Dumbledore, still sounding amused. "Search the skies, if you will... Hagrid, I could do with a cup of tea. Or a large brandy."

"O' -- o' course, Professor," said Hagrid, who sounded weak with happiness. "Come in, come in..."

Harry and Hermione listened closely. They heard footsteps, the soft cursing of the executioner, the snap of the door, and then silence once more.

"Now what?" whispered Harry, looking around.

"We'll have to hide," said Hermione, who looked very shaken. "But we also need to get the camera."

"We're going to have to move," said Harry, thinking hard. "We've got to be able to see the Whomping Willow, or we won't know what's going on."

"Okay," said Hermione, getting a firmer grip on Buckbeak's rope. "But we've got to keep out of sight, Harry, remember..."

They moved around the edge of the forest, darkness falling thickly around them, until they were hidden behind a clump of trees through which they could make out the Willow.

"There's Ron!" said Harry suddenly.

A dark figure was sprinting across the lawn and its shout echoed through the still night air.

"Get away from him -- get away -- Scabbers, come here --"

And then they saw two more figures materialize out of nowhere. Harry watched himself and Hermione chasing after Ron. Then he saw Ron dive.

"Gotcha! Get off, you stinking cat --"

"There's Sirius!" said Harry. The great shape of the dog had bounded out from the roots of the Willow. They saw him bowl Harry over, then seize on...

"Looks even worse from here, doesn't it?" said Harry, watching the dog pulling Ron into the roots. "Ouch -- look, I just got walloped by the tree -- and so did you -- this is weird."

The Whomping Willow was creaking and lashing out with its lower branches; they could see themselves darting here and there, trying to reach the trunk. And then the tree froze.

"That was Crookshanks pressing the knot," said Hermione.

"And there we go..." Harry muttered. "We're in."

The moment they disappeared, the tree began to move again. Seconds later, they heard footsteps quite close by. Dumbledore, Macnair, Fudge, and the old Committee member were making their way up to the castle.

"Right after we'd gone down into the passage!" said Hermione. "If only Dumbledore had come with us..."

"Macnair and Fudge would've come too," said Harry bitterly. "I bet you anything Fudge would've told Macnair to murder Sirius on the spot..."

They watched the four men climb the castle steps and disappear from view. For a few minutes the scene was deserted. Then --

"Here comes Lupin!" said Harry as they saw another figure sprinting down the stone steps and halting toward the Willow. Harry looked up at the sky. Clouds were obscuring the moon completely.

They watched Lupin seize a broken branch from the ground and prod the knot on the trunk. The tree stopped fighting, and Lupin, too, disappeared into the gap in its roots.

"If he'd only grabbed the cloak," said Harry. "It's just lying there..."

He turned to Hermione.

"We left it there when we came back. We should grab it now."

Hermione nodded, "Yes, that will help us to stay hidden getting the camera."

"We could fly on Buckbeak up to Gryffindor Tower, get the camera and then come back," Harry said. "Lupin and Sirius talked a lot, we should have long enough for that."

Hermione nodded. "We should use the cloak just in case."

Just then, they heard a burst of song. It was Hagrid, making his way up to the castle, singing at the top of his voice, and weaving slightly as he walked. A large bottle was swinging from his hands. 

"No, Buckbeak!" Harry whispered urgently, trying to calm the beast. 

The Hippogriff was making frantic attempts to get to Hagrid again; Hermione seized her rope too, straining to hold Buckbeak back. They watched Hagrid meander tipsily up to the castle. He was gone. Buckbeak stopped fighting to get away. His head drooped sadly.

"Come on, boy, we have a job for you," Harry cajoled the hippogriff. He and Hermione were on Buckbeak's back in a flash, and they flew over to the school and Hermione waved her wand at the second-year-boys' dorm window.

" _ Alohomora _ ," she said, and the window opened. "Quietly, I think they are all asleep," she said and Harry slipped off of the Griffin and into the dorm, with the invisibility cloak. He grabbed Colin's camera and came back to the window sill quietly and got back on their mount. " _ Colloportus _ ," she whispered, and the window closed back again. 

They flew the Griffin in a big circle, and landed back by the Whomping Willow, but closer to the school this time. "We need to find that spot where we can take the picture." They hunted for about half an hour to find the spot, and once they thought they had it, they settled in to wait. 

“Here we come!" Hermione whispered.

Harry's heart was starting to beat very fast. He glanced up at the sky. Any moment now, that cloud was going to move aside and show the moon...

"Harry," Hermione muttered as though she knew exactly what he was thinking, "we've got to stay put. We mustn't be seen. There's nothing we can do..."

"So we're just going to let Pettigrew escape all over again..." said Harry quietly.

"How do you expect to find a rat in the dark?" snapped Hermione. "There's nothing we can do! We came back to help Sirius; we're not supposed to be doing anything else!"

"All right!"

The moon slid out from behind its cloud. They saw the tiny figures across the grounds stop. Then they saw movement -- and Harry snapped the picture they came for.

"There," he said as the group separated. One dog and wolf disappearing back into the Whomping Willow, three kids moving back toward the castle. "Maybe we can take Buckbeak back to Hagrid's and then we can get something going for him from there?"

"At least for tonight, that sounds fine," Hermione said, and they took Buckbeak back to Hagrid's and let him into the house with Fang. Then headed up to the castle themselves to give their evidence to Dumbledore. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: So this is the last chapter of HPPA that I'm pulling from. This is going to be where this pops off from and really is going to take off. This chapter is pretty short, but that's ok because I actually get to start writing now. 

The next morning, after Ron was released from the hospital wing, and Lupin was back in his office, and the picture had been developed and the camera returned to Colin and Buckbeak had been whisked away to a Hippogriff sanctuary (before Hagrid got over his hangover and went back to his house). The picture in question was evidence of a lot of things, unfortunately. 

Professor Lupin had been quietly asked to pack up, by the ministry officials, who were unaware of his state as a werewolf prior to this moment. While the parents hadn't been rudely notified, if anything ever came of their escapades from the night before, and this picture got out, it clearly showed Lupin as a werewolf. It also showed Peter Pettigrew as an Animagus. A previously unregistered one. 

The Dementors were also quietly removed from the school grounds and the Ministry quietly took Sirius Black off their most wanted list. Though he'd been cleared of the charges related to Peter Pettigrew's murder, he was still deemed at fault for the deaths of 12 muggles, and for that, it was likely that he would return to Azkaban if he were found. However, something no one really wanted to say, no one in the magic world really cared how many Muggles a wizard killed, and there was, of course, the question of whether Black had killed those muggles or if that was also the work of Pettigrew. So the manhunt was at an end. 

Harry popped in to see Professor Lupin. A large black dog was curled up in front of the cold fireplace in his office as he packed. "I'm really sorry to see you go. You are one of the best teachers we have ever had." 

"Well, my boy, I'm sorry to go," He hesitated, then held out the Marauder's Map. "I am no longer your teacher, so I don't feel guilty about giving you back this. It's no use to me, and I daresay you, Ron, and Hermione will find uses for it."

Harry took the map and grinned.

"You told me Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs would've wanted to lure me out of school... you said they'd have thought it was funny."

"And so we would have," said Lupin, now reaching down to close his case. "I have no hesitation in saying that James would have been highly disappointed if his son had never found any of the secret passages out of the castle."

"So, that's it?"

"Such is the life of a werewolf," Lupin said. "But I'm sure we will see each other again." He turned to the dog on the floor. "Come on Sirius, let's go." 

The dog whuffed but didn't move. 

"Suit yourself. What, do you think you are going to go home with Harry?"

_ Thump, thump, thump.  _ Lupin shook his head. "Well, Harry, I think you've just been adopted by a dog."

Harry grinned and shrugged. "There are worse things in life."

"Though you should probably call him something other than Sirius."

"Padfoot, then?" Harry asked.  _ Thump, thump, thump. _

"Both of you out, I need to lock up," Lupin said. And Harry and Padfoot moved out of the office, and Lupin locked it, and they walked together to Dumbledore's office to turn in the key. 

"You are staying with Harry then?"  _ Thump, thump, thump. _ Dumbledore shrugged. He turned to Harry. "You don't seem particularly pleased with yourself."

"It's just, what difference did we make? Sure, we saved Buckbeak, but Peter Pettigrew still got away. He still crawled back to Voldemort and is now helping him."

"Didn't make any difference?" said Dumbledore quietly, "It made all the difference in the world, Harry. You helped uncover the truth. You saved an innocent man from a terrible fate."

Terrible. Something stirred in Harry's memory. Greater and more terrible than ever before... Professor Trelawney's prediction!

"Professor Dumbledore -- yesterday, when I was having my Divination exam, Professor Trelawney went very -- very strange."

"Indeed?" said Dumbledore. "Er -- stranger than usual, you mean?"

"Yes... her voice went all deep and her eyes rolled and she said ... she said Voldemort's servant was going to set out to return to him before midnight... She said the servant would help him come back to power." Harry stared up at Dumbledore. "And then she sort of became normal again, and she couldn't remember anything she'd said. Was it -- was she making a real prediction?"

Dumbledore looked mildly impressed.

"Do you know, Harry, I think she might have been," he said thoughtfully. "Who'd have thought it? That brings her total of real predictions up to two. I should offer her a pay raise..."

"But --" Harry looked at him, aghast. How could Dumbledore take this so calmly?

"But -- I stopped Sirius and Professor Lupin from killing Pettigrew! That makes it my fault if Voldemort comes back!"

"It does not," said Dumbledore quietly. "Hasn't your experience with the Time-Turner taught you anything, Harry? The consequences of our actions are always so complicated, so diverse, that predicting the future is a very difficult business indeed... Professor Trelawney, bless her, is living proof of that... You did a very noble thing, in saving Pettigrew's life."

"But if he helps Voldemort back to power..."

"Pettigrew owes his life to you. You have sent Voldemort a deputy who is in your debt... When one wizard saves another wizard's life, it creates a certain bond between them... and I'm much mistaken if Voldemort wants his servant in the debt of Harry Potter."

"I don't want a connection with Pettigrew!" said Harry. "He betrayed my parents!"

"This is magic at its deepest, its most impenetrable, Harry. But trust me... the time may come when you will be very glad you saved Pettigrew's life."

Harry couldn't imagine when that would be. Dumbledore looked as though he knew what Harry was thinking.

"I knew your father very well, both at Hogwarts and later, Harry," he said gently. "He would have saved Pettigrew too, I am sure of it."

Harry looked up at him. "So what now? Can I go live with," his eyes darted down to the dog at his feet. 

"Perhaps it would be best for him to go live with you. There is a reason that I had you fostered at your Aunt and Uncle's house rather than with a wizarding family. There is powerful magic…" Dumbledore shook his head. "Nevermind. Having unregistered Animagi running around," he shook his head again. 

"Behave yourselves, both of you," he said after a moment. 

* * *

It wasn't only Professor Lupin's departure that was weighing on Harry's mind. He couldn't help thinking a lot about Professor Trelawney's prediction. He kept wondering where Pettigrew was now, whether he had sought sanctuary with Voldemort yet. But the thing that was lowering Harry's spirits most of all was the prospect of returning to the Dursleys. For maybe half an hour, a glorious half-hour, he had believed he would be living with Sirius from now on… his parents' best friend… It would have been the next best thing to having his own father back. Having Sirius around in dog form was not completely terrible, but not being forced back to the Dursley's for the summer would have been amazing. 

The exam results came out on the last day of term. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had passed every subject. Harry was amazed that he had got through Potions. He had a shrewd suspicion that Dumbledore might have stepped in to stop Snape failing him on purpose. Snape's behavior toward Harry over the past week had been quite alarming. Harry wouldn't have thought it possible that Snape's dislike for him could increase, but it certainly had. A muscle twitched unpleasantly at the corner of Snape's thin mouth every time he looked at Harry, and he was constantly flexing his fingers, as though itching to place them around Harry's throat. Harry was sure that Snape knew exactly who Padfoot was, and was both the instigation of this more intense hate and the reason that nothing had been done. 

Percy had got his top-grade N.E.W.T.s; Fred and George had scraped a handful of O.W.L.s each. Gryffindor House, meanwhile, largely thanks to their spectacular performance in the Quidditch Cup, had won the House championship for the third year running. This meant that the end of term feast took place amid decorations of scarlet and gold and that the Gryffindor table was the noisiest of the lot, as everybody celebrated. Even Harry managed to forget about the journey back to the Dursleys the next day as he ate, drank, talked, and laughed with the rest.

* * *

It was breakfast on the morning of the train ride home, and they'd all finished packing up to go onto their train ride home the night before. Draco was being particularly loud, but, knowing the truth, Harry just ate his breakfast and left it alone. The Great Hall had a scattering of students and Professors Flitwick and Trelway were sitting at the head table. "It's just not fair, we followed the law and somehow that big smelly, stupid ogre gets his bird whisked away before he can be properly executed," said Draco. He seemed to be preaching to a semi-captive audience of Crabbe, Goyle, and several first and second-year Slytherins who didn't seem to think they would be allowed to leave. Harry selected some fruits that he could just hand to Padfoot because it had become this necessary fiction that Padfoot was just a dog. He also put several sausages and a couple of biscuits, and then set the plate on the floor for him. 

The plate made a bit of noise and Draco came over to the table where Harry, Hermione, and Ron were eating. "What is that?"

Harry smiled mildly. "I'm not sure, really. He's really friendly though."

"Why do you have him here? You can't have pets at Hogwarts!"

"He's not a pet," Harry said seriously. "He's so much more than that."

"He's not a cat, toad, or owl, and don't you have an owl already?"

"Yes, Hedwig is my magical animal. But she's not suitable for everything. Padfoot is much more helpful, and he's not a messenger; Hedwig is."

In the time that they'd been talking, Padfoot had been applying himself to his food and rattled the dish with his tongue as he cleaned it. Harry picked it up, and, looking at the dog, asked, "More?" Padfoot nodded. He picked out some more breakfast so that his companion wouldn't be overly hungry on the train. 

"What exactly is he helpful for? Eating?"

"Well, he does put the food away, but really, he's great to talk to, he's a great listener. I am so glad to have someone to talk to, who will just listen, and not judge me."

"Of course," Draco laughed, "He can't talk back, a great listener indeed. But, seriously, what makes you think that you're so special that you get to have a dog here at the school?"

"Well, Dumbledore said I could keep him, so there's that."

"Dumbledore only said that you could keep him because he feels so sorry for you because your parents got killed. Because you're the 'Chosen One'."

"That may be, Draco, but at least my parents loved me, and I don't have to win their love by bullying other people because they are the type of people to only see strength as a useful quality."

Draco Malfoy turned shades of red that until this point Harry had only seen his Uncle Veron turn. He scratched behind Padfoot's ears, which Padfoot leaned into, so he kept it up. "Wait until my father hears about this," he said. 

Harry smiled. "I can tell him for you if you like," he offered. Padfoot nosed him in the chest, and Harry patted his head. 

"No, no, I'll tell him myself," Draco said through clenched teeth. "Don't worry about it."

"Sure," Harry said. "Just make sure that what you tell him resembles the truth."

Malfoy stormed off in a huff, and Harry turned back to his friends.

"You shouldn't let the fact that you have Sirius to back you up make you foolhardy," Hermione hissed at him. 

"Sirius said much the same thing," Harry said. "And honestly, I very much didn't think that he would take me up on the offer."

"Be more careful, though?"

"Yes, Hermione," Harry agreed, and they finished up their breakfast and then went up to Gryffindor tower, made sure that they hadn't forgotten anything in their packing, and got ready for the train ride home. 

As the Hogwarts Express pulled out of the station, Hermione gave Harry and Ron some surprising news.

"I went to see Professor McGonagall this morning, just before breakfast. I've decided to drop Muggle Studies."

"But you passed your exam with three hundred and twenty percent!" said Ron.

"I know," sighed Hermione, "but I can't stand another year like this one. That Time-Turner, it was driving me mad. I've handed it in. Without Muggle Studies and Divination, I'll be able to have a normal schedule again."

"I still can't believe you didn't tell us about it," said Ron grumpily. "We're supposed to be your friends."

"I promised I wouldn't tell anyone," said Hermione severely. She looked around at Harry, who was watching Hogwarts disappear from view behind a mountain. Nearly three whole months before he'd see it again...

"Oh, cheer up, Harry!" said Hermione sadly.

"I'm okay," said Harry quickly. "Just thinking about the holidays."

"Yeah, I've been thinking about them too," said Ron. "You could come live with us over the summer. I'll fix it up with Mum and Dad, then I'll call you. I know how to use a fellytone now --"

"A telephone, Ron," said Hermione. "Honestly, you should take Muggle Studies next year...."

Ron ignored her.

"It's the Quidditch World Cup this summer! How about it, Harry? Come and stay, and we'll go and see it! Dad can usually get tickets from work."

This proposal had the effect of cheering Harry up a great deal.

"Yeah... I bet the Dursleys'd be pleased to let me come... especially after what I did to Aunt Marge...."

Feeling considerably more cheerful, Harry joined Ron and Hermione in several games of Exploding Snap, and when the witch with the tea cart arrived, he bought himself and Sirius a very large lunch, though nothing with chocolate in it.

"You ready?" he asked Sirius and Sirius nodded. "Let's go." 

Harry, Ron, and Hermione stepped back through the barrier of platform nine and three-quarters. Harry spotted Uncle Vernon at once. He was standing a good distance from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, eyeing them suspiciously, and when Mrs. Weasley hugged Harry in greeting, his worst suspicions about them seemed confirmed.

"I'll call about the World Cup!" Ron yelled after Harry as Harry bid him and Hermione good-bye, then wheeled the trolley bearing his trunk and Hedwig's cage toward Uncle Vernon, who greeted him in his usual fashion.

"What's that?" he snarled, staring at the massive dog that followed Harry like a shadow. "That's my emotional support animal. The school gave him to me on account of how tragic my upbringing has been so far. He's wicked smart, and he guards me from bad things."

And, grinning broadly at the look of horror on Uncle Vernon's face, Harry set off toward the station exit, Hedwig rattling along in front of him, for what looked like a much better summer than the last. 


	4. Chapter 4

AN: So, here we are the first chapter of the Summer. Technically this would coincide with those first (ten) chapters of HPGF, but really it's just the start of this story.

* * *

* * *

  
  


It was two days into summer break and a new routine had developed at the Dursley house. Sirius had claimed the couch. All of it. All the time. Except when he wanted to run, which was usually several miles a day. Sirius had investigated the entire house upon entering. Being that he was about 11 Stone of dog, no one really argued with him. Harry took his things up to his bedroom, which, until he'd received a letter from Hogwarts addressed to him in his cupboard under the stairs, had been Dudley's second bedroom, where he stored his broken and discarded toys. After finding that the house was satisfactory and in order, Sirius had plopped onto the sofa and refused to move until dinner. 

"I don't see why he can't eat dog food."

"He doesn't like dog food. He eats regular food at school. He would be most unhappy to eat something else here." 

"I still think that dog food would be better for him."

"Only if you want him to starve, Aunt Petunia. Buying him dog food is a waste of money, he won't eat it. Anyway, it's time for our run. We'll be back in an hour or so."

"An hour. You will need to start dinner after that."

"Yes, Aunt Petunia," Harry said as he finished tying his running shoes. "Come on, Padfoot, let's go for your exercise."

Padfoot hopped up, shaking his fur into place and lolling his doggy tongue at Harry. They walked out the door and took off at a lope. Once they had gone about half a mile and there didn't seem to be anyone looking, Sirius turned back into a person. "I will not eat dog food to make that woman happy."

"I don't expect you to. She will probably try though."

Sirius pulled a face. "So, how is your summer homework coming?"

Harry shrugged. "I've been doing some light reading. I haven't really gotten into any of it yet."

Sirius nodded. "Running is good. I enjoy this."

"Comes from being locked up all my life," Harry said teasingly.

"Do I need to make you run harder?"

"No, sir."

Sirius nodded, but he kicked the pace up a bit, and they ran all the way around the nearby park several times to get Sirius's blood pumping, and Harry's as well. Sirius dropped back to all fours and turned back into his dog-self, and they headed back to 4 Privet Drive.

Harry went upstairs, pulling his shirt off, and Dudley was there at his bedroom door. He looked extremely confused. "Why are you all sweaty?"

"I was out running with Padfoot. He's a great runner."

"Why do you do that, go run with him?"

"He needs to get out of the house. It's great exercise, running."

"When did you get muscles?" he asked, and Harry, indeed, had grown a somewhat broader chest over the school year. He examined himself critically in the bathroom mirror.

"I don't know. This year I guess. We do a lot of running about and such at school. And Quidditch is a pretty intense sport."

Dudley narrowed his eyes. "What's Quidditch?"

"It's kind of like rugby on broomsticks," Harry said as he pulled a shirt out of his drawer and put it on.

"And you play this?"

"Yeah, I've been Gryffindor's Seeker since First Year."

"What's a Seeker?"

"I've got to make dinner, but if you want to come to sit in the kitchen, I'll tell you about it."

Dudley nodded, leaving his games for something other than food for the first time in two days. 

Harry started to pull out what he needed for making dinner. There were vegetables he was going to cut up for a salad, and ham steaks, potatoes for mashing. "So, in Quidditch, there are four balls."

  
"I thought you said it was like rugby." 

"It's very physical and there's a lot of bopping balls about," he said, and Dudley nodded. "So there are four balls. There are two bludgers, a quaffle, and a snitch."

Harry was peeling potatoes as he spoke. Uncle Vernon was not yet home, and Aunt Petunia had left for the store while Harry and Padfoot had been out for their daily run. Padfoot came into the kitchen to listen and sat patiently on his haunches as Harry explained the nuances of quidditch to Dudley.

"Why are you making a salad, salad is gross," Dudley complained. 

"It's good for you and it's tasty and it is far more healthy than cake is for you."

Dudley's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean cake isn't healthy?"

"Well, a little bit of cake sometimes is fine, great even, but cake every day, well, that's how Uncle Vernon and Aunt Marge got to be the way that they are."

"You mean they are fat."

"If you want to be indelicate about it, yes."

"So, you eat more salads and less cake?"

"I mean, sure. Exercise is part of being healthy too. Padfoot and I went and ran probably 10 miles this afternoon."

"You came home and you weren't even really winded."

"Not too bad." Harry agreed as he chopped potatoes and put them into the pot of water to boil. "Oliver says being in shape off the field helps on the field. Quidditch matches can go on for days, being healthy means you can keep up."

"Why do matches go on for days?"

"Well, the thing that ends the match is catching the snitch. That's the job of the Seeker. That's my job."

"Can I watch a match?"

"I don't know. Maybe? Ron said something about the Quidditch World Cup this summer. We can see?"

It was just then that Vernon walked in. He seemed in fairly fine spirits. "What are you two boys up to?"

"Harry was just telling me about the sport he plays at school," Dudley said without thinking. Vernon turned several shades redder. 

"Boy," he said, and the growl came out of Padfoot set him on his heels. 

"Uncle Vernon, Dudley was just asking me some questions. He didn't know that I have played Quidditch since First Year, or that I'm the youngest Seeker at the school in a hundred years, or that my Dad was also a Seeker when he was in school. It's actually a rather fascinating sport. I mean, I know how to play and I can explain it to him, but really, if you want to know about professional teams or historical stuff, Ron is the person you need to ask."

"I told you," he said through clenched teeth, "I didn't need you infecting my boy with your magic talk."

"He asked," Harry said simply, then added in just as mild a tone. "Dinner will be ready in about 10 minutes, and I think Aunt Petunia should be home any minute, why don't you go wash up?" 

He trimmed up the ham steaks and set them to fry and let Padfoot grab some scraps as he began working on the mashed potatoes. 

Dudley was sitting there with a contemplative look on his face, as he'd never seen his father backed down from an argument.

"You, too," Harry said, pointing the potato masher at him. Dudley nearly ran into Vernon as he came out of the bathroom. He looked up, shocked to be able to stand there and look his father in the eyes without actually having to look up.

Harry set out 5 plates and put salads and ham and potatoes out on each of the plates, with dishes of salad and potatoes and a plate of more ham set in the middle of the table for seconds if anyone were to want them. Petunia came in just as Harry was setting Padfoot's plate on the floor for him. "I told you we would be feeding him dog food."   
  


"And I told you he won't eat it. I don't know why you won't listen to me about that. Look, he's waiting to eat like a proper gentleman." 

Petunia looked down her nose at the dog. "He will start on dog food in the morning."

Harry shook his head. "He won't eat it."

"He'll eat it or he won't eat." Petunia said coldly. 

"Petunia, he can eat table scraps, I won't spend money on that dog. Or he can beg for food from neighbors."

Petunia frowned. "I've already bought the dog food."

"Then take it back," Vernon suggested.

Harry shrugged apologetically at Sirius as the rest of the family sat down at the table and began to dig in. 

Sirius ate, and Harry and they both sat back, full after one plate. Dudley was watching him and decided on seconds of salad and a little meat and that was it. Vernon and Petunia went and sat in the living room to watch the tele while Harry cleaned up and Dudley asked him more questions about Quidditch. Bludgers, Beaters, Keepers, Quaffle, Chasers, Seeker, Snitch. Broomsticks and the basics of flying, insofar as the mechanical considerations that Dudley would need in order to understand how riding broomsticks affected how the game was played. 

"You know," Dudley said after he'd exhausted a line of questions that took them over into history and Harry had given him three "That's really a question for Ron," as an answer, "I feel better not having eaten that second portion of potatoes. Normally I'd be half asleep on the couch with Mum and Dad, but I don't feel like that.”

Harry nodded. "Exercise will help, too."

"What like going and pummelling some kid, like I used to do with you?"

"Well, that, or weights or running, biking. I would say flying on broomsticks, but you don't have that option," he said with a small grin. 

"Weights, like at a gym?"

"Yeah, builds strength through using the muscles repeatedly."

"My friends go to the gym. I bet I could go with them."

"Probably," Harry agreed reasonably. He didn't much care for Dudley's friends, but they were Dudley's friends and not his. "Did you want to go for a walk?" He was nearly finished with the cleanup.

"Sure, I could go for a walk." he agreed. So, Harry got the dishes put away, and they took Padfoot for a second, shorter walk. 

* * *

Harry was in his room after the walk with Dudley. Sirius was laying on Harry's bed while Harry was sitting at his desk writing letters to his friends. He'd already written a letter to the Weasleys and was writing a shorter one to Hermione. 

He ruffled Hedwig's feathers as he placed the two notes into her care. He gave her scritches the way she liked them, and told her, "one letter to Hermione, and one to Ron, can you do both?"

She nodded and then took off out the window. "What did you tell them?"

"Well, I'm at about the end of what I know about Quidditch to tell Dudley, and I need to know about this Quidditch World Cup, and I'd like for Hermione to answer some questions for me."

"Questions about what?"

"Some things. She's the smartest person I know and I don't know everything."

"So, what questions do you have?" Sirius prompted again.

"Oh, whether there's a way to convert wizard money to regular money, whether it would be legal to take Dudley to a game, what we would need to teach him to let him be able to go to the game."

"Well, I can answer those. Yes, there are ways to convert Wizard coin to regular money. Since Dudley already knows about magic, there shouldn't be any legal trouble for actually taking him into the game, and if you are really going to do this I can give you pointers for what he needs to know, act like, wear, the works."

"So, what does he need to wear?"

"Well, if he's going into the wizarding world, he'll need to dress like a wizard."

"Huh," Harry said, sitting back in his desk chair. "Do we need anything other than clothes?"

Sirius pondered for a bit. "Maybe a stick that looks like a wand? He's probably at least got as much magic as any squib, which would make a real wand dangerous for him."

"Squibs have magic? I thought that they were squibs because they didn't have magic?"

"Well, they do and they don't. They have enough magic to be dangerous if handed a wand but not enough to be trained to do much more than stir their tea without a spoon."

"And since my mother had magic, that means that Aunt Petunia had at least a little, and Dudley has some too."

"Yes, so, we can rig something up that looks right and see what we can do with the rest," Sirius said. "Now, why do you want to get real money?"

"You don't want to sleep on the couch forever do you?"

"What, bunk beds?" Sirius asked, "Seriously?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know, but something more permanent than the couch."

"We'll look at things tomorrow then."

* * *

A week later, a letter arrived from Dudley's school. His mother wailed and moaned about the diet the school wanted him on. If he didn't lose a specified amount of weight by the beginning of school, he wouldn't be able to fit in a school uniform next year. 

Dudley took it fairly stoically. He'd gone to the library with Harry to find out more about nutrition. Petunia, on the other hand, was absolutely distraught for days after the arrival of the letter. The letter had contained a very specific regimented diet for Dudley for the rest of the summer. 

The diet sheet that had been sent by the Smeltings school nurse had been taped to the fridge, which had been emptied of all Dudley's favorite things - fizzy drinks and cakes, chocolate bars and burgers and filled instead with fruit and vegetables and the sorts of things that Uncle Vernon called "rabbit food." Petunia had insisted that Dudley was in shock over the whole mess and had stated that the whole family would follow the diet. Now, Aunt Petunia didn't know what was hidden upstairs under the loose floorboard. She had no idea that sometimes Harry and Sirius would go to London and load up on sweets and food and general chicanery. 

"My sheet says I get a half grapefruit," Dudley told Harry as he was pulling one out of the fridge. "You want the other half?"

Harry shrugged. "Yeah, sure," he agreed. They ate the grapefruit in companionable silence until the doorbell rang. Petunia could be heard from the kitchen. 

"Well, I didn't order this!"

"Of course not ma'am," a man's voice, pleading with her, said, "It says right here that it was ordered by someone else. Here are the delivery instructions," and there were some clicking noises. Harry and Dudley both jumped up to see what was going on. Harry was pretty sure that it was the delivery of the 'dog bed' that he and Sirius had ordered earlier in the week, but he hadn't actually gone with him to see what Sirius picked out so he was very curious. He had a clipboard that had several papers on it, presumably one had been taken off to give to her. 

"Oh, that must be Padfoot's bed. Headmaster said something about sending something for him, I must have forgotten to say something," Harry said apologetically, even diffidently.

"Well, then show these men to your room, it can go in there," Petunia said, her eyes narrowed at him. "And then we will talk about unexpected deliveries to my house."

"Certainly, Aunt Petunia," Harry said, as he and Padfoot bolted up the stairs, and the two deliverymen followed, carrying what was basically another entire bed. After some rearranging, they managed to fit both beds and everything satisfactorily into Harry's room, and Padfoot settled onto his new bed. Petunia came to the door after she had shown the deliverymen out. 

"Why didn't you think to tell me that they were coming?"   
  
"I would have thought they would have been here by now, it's been over a week since school let out," he said. "I didn't really know what Dumbledore meant when he said he would be sending things along for Padfoot."

"Do you even know how ridiculous a name that is for that dog?"   
  


"I didn't give him his name, Aunt Petunia. He named himself."

Petunia's frown deepened. "Be that as it may," she said, looking at the creature in question, "I don't like it."

Harry shrugged. "Nothing I can do about it. He won't answer to anything else."

The doorbell rang again before anything else could be said. Padfoot perked up, getting off the bed and heading down the stairs to wait by the door, with Petunia right behind him. "Hello child," Petunia said as Harry came down the stairs. "Are you here to see Dudley?"

"No," said Hermione's familiar voice, "I'm here to see Harry."

"Come on in," he said before Petunia could say anything. He gave her a hug as he hit the bottom of the stairs. "It's good to see you."

"Ron here yet?"

"No, should he be?"

"Well, normally I would go spend time at Ron's but there has been an infestation of Pixies at the Burrow."

Harry shook his head. "I can't promise that Aunt Petunia will be at all happy with this arrangement."

Hermione shrugged. "Padfoot can sit on her if she isn't."

Harry's mouth opened then closed. "Alright." He nodded. "Come on, then, let's go into the kitchen. I've got to clean up from breakfast and then we can go for a walk." 

"Can I come too," Dudley asked, "I've been reading those books, and I need to get out some."

Harry looked him up and down, then nodded. "I've been talking with Padfoot about what to do with Dudley."

Hermione frowned. "And what did you two decide?"

  
"That it's perfectly reasonable to take him along to see Quidditch if he wants to go."

"Ah," she said, nodded, and after washing up the plates and spoons from the grapefruit, they all exited out the back door and headed out to the local park, except for Padfoot, who whisked himself away to get the youngest Weasley boy.

* * *

It was an hour later when Ron and Padfoot found them, in good cheer and sweaty from teaching Dudley some of the workouts that Oliver had taught Harry to help him keep his body in shape. It didn't matter if you were a great wizard; out on the Quidditch pitch, it was all about endurance. Or so Oliver had said. It had been less about endurance and more about speed, Harry had found, but then, he was a Seeker and Oliver had been a Keeper and the positions were very different. "So, Ron, your house has an infestation, Hermione told me."

"Well, yeah. Mom and Dad are trying to get rid of them. Don't know what happened, but there are twenty or so of the little buggers. Dad'll cage them and set them loose in the bogs later."

"Have you had this problem before?"

"Once, Fred and George thought it would be a grand surprise to catch some and loose them in the house the day before they were supposed to go to Hogwarts for the first time."

"But they didn't do that this time?"

"They best not have, Mom will have their skins hung for decoration if they did," he considered the group, "So this is Dudley, your cousin, right?" Ron stuck his hand out and Dudley raised himself to a sitting position to shake it. 

"Right," Dudley said. "And Harry says you are the one to ask about Quidditch."

Ron's eyes lit up and got wide. "Am I ever," he agreed and spent the next hour regaling the hapless Muggle with all of the reasons why Quidditch was the best sport ever invented.

* * *

After a nice day with Ron and Hermione, and Padfoot escorted them home, then sprawled all over the sofa, Dudley was looking at his pre-approved dinner as it was stated on the list. "Large salad with no dressing. 3 ounces of grilled chicken, a desert of 4 ounces of fresh dark berries, no cream."

"That sounds a little harsh," Harry said and jumped slightly when Aunt Petunia spoke.

"Well, it may be, but we are all doing it to support Dudley. Now, why don't you get that salad ready for him, hmm?"

"Yes, Aunt Petunia," Harry agreed. He made a large, undressed salad in a serving bowl as she measured out chicken portions and the berries. Once the chicken had been cooked, she portioned out the salad and chicken onto four plates, keeping the bowls of berries back for everyone to have them after they had eaten an appropriate amount of salad. 

No one mentioned that she wasn't feeding the dog, least of all the dog. Harry shrugged internally. He must have gotten Mrs. Weasley to make sure that he'd been fed since he wasn't in the kitchen trying to eat. 

* * *

Three days later, with some nudging (and money) between Sirius and Harry, Ron had managed to secure tickets to one of the first round matches to the Quidditch World Cup. Sirius had also returned Ron's wand back to him once he'd secured another by way of Crookshanks going to Olivander's in his stead.

"What match are we going to see?" Dudley asked as they headed to the assigned portkey location. It was a premium one, even though their seats hadn't been particularly stellar, but Ron had managed a bit of name dropping, and they'd be leaving from the Leaky Cauldron and back that night. Both Dudley and Harry had promised that Dudley would stay on his diet for the day, and both had honestly meant it. Harry, because he didn't want to have to be responsible for the chewing out they'd get if he didn't and Dudley because he was having an honest change of heart about his outlook on life. 

"We should get some money at Gringotts, and make sure Dudley has proper clothes," Harry suggested as they apparated --well, as Sirius apparated them -- in a dusty corner of Diagon Alley. 

"Sure," Ron agreed. He'd arranged for them to have several hours before the actual match at Sirius and Harry's request, and Hermione said that she would meet them about an hour before they were to actually leave so that they could all eat. They headed to the bank, and Harry went into the vault for a withdrawal with Padfoot, leaving Dudley and Ron in the lobby for a few minutes. This went off without a hitch and they were soon back, and Harry and Ron took Dudley to Madam Malkin's. 

"Well," said Madam Malkin, as she bustled to the front as they entered, "What do we have here, Mr. Potter?"

"Hi, Madam Malkin. This is my cousin, he's visiting from America. We were going to see the game this afternoon, and he was supposed to stay with me for a little while so that we could take in the games, but there was a mix-up and his trunk never made it."

"Well, he's a little pudgy one," she said, examining Dudley critically. "But no matter, I can have robes fixed up for him in two winks."

"What color do you want to wear, boy?" she asked him.

"Um, red?" he said.

"I thought you said he was from America?" she looked at Harry.

"Well, they moved over there several years ago, you see. Thought it best to keep him out of the spotlight that, you know." he threw her a look, and she narrowed her eyes and nodded. 

"Well, then, I do see," she said, and went to work putting together a fairly nice set of moderately fancy robes for Dudley, and once they were finished, they took off to explore some of the stores that held magical wares. 

After several stops, Harry turned to Ron, "Hey, you know, since you don't have Scabbers anymore, you are going to need another pet, aren't you?"

"Well, yeah, probably." 

"I didn't get you anything for your birthday, let me get you something, as your birthday present."

Ron thought about it for a minute, then nodded. "Just because you forgot my birthday."

"Do you want to go to the menagerie, or to Eeylops?"

"Where did you get Hedwig?"

Harry shrugged. "I didn't, she was a present from Hagrid for my birthday."

"I think we should go to Eeylops, I don't want another rat, I rather hate cats after Crookshanks, and Trevor isn't exactly the best companion. An owl is actually useful."

Harry shrugged as they headed over to the Owl Shop. He needed to pick up more owl treats anyway. There were nearly a hundred owls in cages, all different types, but one especially seemed drawn to Ron. "I like this one," he said of a tiny grey screechy little ball of fluff.

"Alright, that's great, we'll take it," he said to the shopkeeper, who nodded, and took him over to the register to ring up their purchase. He added a care kit for the little fluff ball and a couple of boxes of treats for him and for Hedwig.

"What are you going to call him?"

"I don't know. But maybe I should have them send him to my house instead of taking him with me?"

"Can you ship the owl to the Burrow?" Harry asked.

"Anything for you, Mr. Potter," the man answered. "How's Hedwig doing?"

"Great. She's sleeping at the house. She loves your treats."

"Good," the shopkeeper nodded as he took the cage with the little scop owl in it. "Do you want to put a note in?" 

"Ah, yeah, sure," he said and scribbled a note for Mrs. Weasley. 

_ Mrs. Weasley,  _

_ I forgot to get Ron something for his birthday so we decided on this little fluff for him. We  _ _ are taking my cousin to see the First round match today so that he can maybe understand Quidditch a little better. Don't worry, Padfoot is watching out for us. Thanks for everything, _

_ Harry _

Harry handed the note to the shopkeeper and they left on their way to meet with Hermione out in Muggle London for a bite before their 1 pm appointment with the portkey. 

* * *

"Alright," Ron said as they arrived at the portkey, in an unused storage closet in the back of the Leaky Cauldron. "Going by portkey is like being pulled inside out from your belly button."

There was a moldy sweater hanging in the closet and two other people who looked like they were getting ready to port as well. "Hello," Harry said, and they said hello back. 

"Now, all you have to do is be touching the thing. It's on a schedule," Hermione said to Dudley as they entered the backroom. Dudley nodded and he and Harry grabbed parts of the nasty sweater just in time, and it was just like being pulled through space from behind your navel, not exactly like being pulled inside out, but the sensation wouldn't be one to forget. 

"One o'clock, Leaky Cauldron," called out a wizard standing watch over the portkey entry point. They moved off quickly as they were sure others would be headed in soon. 

"Blimey," Dudley said once they were off the landing field. There was a large number of wizards hurrying toward the pathway lit by lanterns. A twenty-minute walk later, and they were in the shadow of a giant stadium. "Where are we?" Dudley asked quietly. 

"Dartmoor," Hermione answered. "The ministry took a year to set up the spells for this. They spent hundreds of man-hours making this happen," she started tour-guide style. It was pleasant to listen to her talk about something that he was not later going to have to have a test over. Her knowledge was an asset in this situation, where 'Harry's cousin from America' could legitimately be told all about any number of aspects of the wizarding world with no fear of seeming strange or even mildly off. All he would have to do is trail off weirdly when he was possibly going to mention something that might include Voldemort and it suddenly became awkward and they moved on. 

"Where are your parents?" the ticket man asked as they brandished four tickets for themselves. 

"Um," Harry thought furiously for a bit, "Uncle Gerald said he would be along presently. Do we need to wait for him?"

"Well, yes," the ticket man said. 

"It's ok, Harry, I mean, it's not like your Uncle is a Potter or anything. He just married your Aunt," Hermione said, and they turned and began to walk away.

The ticket man paled. "Harry P-p-p-potter." 

Harry turned around, and said, "Yes?"

"Well, sir, since it's you, sir, I suppose you can go in."

"And my friends?"

The ticket man nodded eagerly and pulled out a small book. "Perhaps you could sign my book?"

Harry smiled cordially. "I can, certainly."

They entered, and Ron slipped Padfoot a ticket, and he slipped back out, and about ten minutes later, there was a strange, strange man who bore a passing but not huge resemblance to Sirius Black. He wore clothes that were not Sirius's and he didn't have a beard, and his hair was neatly kept. Harry sighed. "Uncle Gerald."

"Wait, Uncle Gerald is a real person?" Dudley said, confused. "I thought you just made someone up to satisfy that ticket person."   
  


"I did," Harry said. 

"W-w-w-w-wait, is this another wizard trick?"

"Well, kind of, nothing that will hurt you, honestly Dudley, so long as you aren't a giant lout no one will give you another pigtail."

"Wait, what?" Hermione questioned, turning her full attention on him. "What do you mean?"

"Well, Dudley might have gotten the impression with his first encounter with the wizarding world that wizards are old, curmudgeonly fellows who take delight in ruining Muggles's days and may or may not have given Dudley a pig-tail for having the, ah, ill manners to try to eat my birthday cake. On my birthday. That said wizard made for me with great effort of their own."

"Harry," Hermione said, scandalized. 

"What, I didn't do it."

"You encouraged him, didn't you?"

"I might have laughed," Harry admitted. "But that's all in the past, and most wizards aren't like that, and besides, they will probably think that he's a full-fledged wizard himself anyway."

'Gerald' cleared his throat. "Come on. These matches won't be crowded, but later ones will be. Let's go find seats, the match is about to begin." There was a subtle shift in the way that he spoke. Like his accent was still there, but it was muted. "Oh, and Dudley, you forgot your wand," he supplied a thirteen-inch long polished stick. 

Dudley gingerly took the thing from him. "Thanks," he said weakly. "What am I supposed to call him?" he whispered to Harry. 

"Uncle Gerald," he whispered back.

"Gerald White will do quite nicely, thank you boys," he said, and Hermione stared at him silently and disapprovingly for a full minute. Then the game started and Ron began a play-by-play of the action with relative detachment; the game was Australia vs Germany, so none of the four-five of them had much in the way of a stake in the game. 

The play went on for several hours before the Australian Seeker finally caught the snitch, securing the game's end, but having gone on for long enough that Dudley got a pretty good grasp on the basics of the game as it was played in action.

  
  



	5. Chapter 5

Harry and the others left the match and 'Uncle Gerald' took Ron and then Hermione home to their parents, and then took both Dudley and Harry at once. They apparated to a small quiet corner of the park. "Oh, and Dudley, you should probably not be wearing robes going back to your house. You either, Harry." He then said, "Well, I'm off," and walked away. 

They took their robes off, stuffing them into bags that Harry had secreted away in his pockets that morning. They trudged an additional couple of blocks back to the house, and Padfoot, who had disappeared just before Uncle Gerald had appeared, was sitting on the front steps. "Where's he been?"

"Hmm," Harry thought for a moment. "He might have gotten lost in the crowds at the stadium, I know we took him with us. He must have some getting home magic so that he can't get too lost?"

"I suppose," Dudley said doubtfully as they entered the house. 

"What did you have for lunch, Duddikins?" Petunia asked. "Oh, ah, salad," he said, producing a receipt. "With water."

She looked it over and then her eyes fell on Harry. "And what did you have?"

"Ah, Hermione spotted me for a wrap thing, I don't know what it was called."

"Did you guys get anything at this game you went to?"

"No, there's not really inside vendors like for other games, and we didn't think to grab anything beforehand. Lucky Hermione's so smart, she brought some bottled water for everyone."

Petunia nodded. "Alright, You were supposed to have more salad and chicken for dinner, or you can have the vegetables and tzatziki that was supposed to be for lunch."

Dudley sighed and looked at his food calendar. "I like the tzatziki, but I would rather have the chicken, honestly."

"Ok, Duddikins. Go on up to your room and you can play until dinner."

Dudley frowned. "I'll get changed, I'm going to go to the gym with Malcolm after dinner."

"Alright dear, be home before dark."

"Sure mom," he said and headed up the stairs. 

Petunia frowned at Harry. "How many times have I told you to keep your magic nonsense away from my child?"

"Honestly, I didn't bring it up, he did, he had fun today, and it's better than him running around with his gang of thugs beating up on children."

"My Dudley would never! You take that back!"

"Aunt Petunia, Dudley is an almost 14-year-old boy who has always tried to prove his superiority to anyone who was small enough and weak enough that they couldn't resist. He's been scared witless of me, and Hagrid and Dumbledore."

"That is quite enough," she said, but then she didn't get any further because Padfoot interposed himself between her and Harry. "Get this dog out of my way," she shrieked. 

"I can't really. He's only doing his job, he's protecting me."

"He doesn't need to protect you from me," she shrieked.

"He thinks he does. I'd back off."

Petunia, with no better answer, backed down. "This isn't finished."

Padfoot growled insistently and pushed at her with his nose.

Petunia took a moment to gather herself and huffed off to the kitchen.

* * *

The next morning, being that it was Saturday, Vernon sat down for breakfast and said, "Now, Harry, look here,"

Harry looked up and met Vernon's eyes. "Yes, Uncle Vernon?"

"I'll not have that animal trying to run my house."

"Well, you see, it's only just that he's quite protective of me."

"That's the problem, you should be able to be disciplined like a normal child."

"But that's the thing, Uncle Vernon. I'm not a normal child. I am a wizarding child."

"All the more reason that you should have discipline!"

"What you mean, Uncle, is all the more reason for you to be mean and hateful toward me for no good reason."

Dudley ate his plain bran cereal with skim milk very studiously. He'd already consumed his banana, and Harry had sliced his banana up into the cereal to give it a more palatable flavor. Harry took a bite. "What I mean is that dog has to go."

"Uncle Vernon," Harry said. "He is an assigned companion from my godfather." 

"Your godfather? You don't have a godfather!"

"I do. Do you remember last summer when that man was on tele but no one would say what he'd done, and then suddenly he just disappeared?"   
  


"Black. Something Black," Vernon said darkly.

"Yes, Sirius Black. He was chums with my Mum and Dad back in school, best friends, and he is my godfather."

"What exactly did he do?"   
  


"Oh, he went to prison for killing thirteen people I think. But he escaped last year and they haven't ever caught him."

Vernon's eyes got round as saucers. "Why did they take him off the tele then?"

"Oh, one of the people he supposedly murdered turned up alive, and since he was a wizard and the rest of the people that he may or may not have killed were muggles, no one cared anymore."

Vernon nearly choked. "No one cared?"

"Well, I mean he might not have done it. It might have been the guy who was supposed to be dead for 12 years. But either way, they don't have either of them in custody and it doesn't seem like they are looking so hard for either of them."

"So," Harry continued after a lengthy pause while Vernon may not have gotten complete control of himself again. "My godfather, Sirius Black, wants to make sure I'm being well cared for since I can't go live with him."

  
"And what is this about you and Dudley going to London?"

"Oh, yeah, that was loads of fun. We went with Ron and Hermione and made a day of it. Padfoot made sure we stayed out of trouble. I think we'll probably go again next week."

"What about Dudley's diet?"

"He got a pretty nice salad at Nando's, and we were all too busy to think about food after lunch. I don't think it'll bother his diet at all."

Vernon settled back, very dissatisfied with the whole mess. Harry finished his breakfast, very satisfied to have gotten one up on his Uncle. 

"I'm going over to Dennis's," Dudley said into the silence afterward. Harry was washing the dishes up before a day of homework that he'd finally decided to sit down and get started on.

"That's fine, my boy," Vernon said as Dudley set his bowl beside the sink to be washed. Vernon finished his breakfast and went back to reading the paper, and Petunia cleared the rest of the dishes from the table and went to tend her gardens.

Padfoot had once again claimed the sofa, and he didn't move when Harry retreated upstairs. For once, nothing disturbed the quiet in the Dursley house.

* * *

After lunch, Dudley asked, "Hey, do you and Padfoot want to go for a run?"

Harry shrugged. "Sure. I could use the run and so could he."

They changed into running clothes, and grabbed the big dog, and headed out.

About a mile in, they paused for Dudley to catch his breath. "So, you think running will help me lose weight?"

"Yeah," Harry said. "It's a pretty simple process really. Eat fewer calories than you are using. You will lose weight. Either eating less or doing more will make that happen. Why are you suddenly on board with losing weight? It seems I don't know, a little out of character for you."

Dudley nodded. "I got stuck in a desk at school. Some of the kids laughed. It was, well, it was humiliating."

"Yeah," Harry nodded, "I can see how that would be."

"And, so I don't want to feel like that again."

"I understand."

"And, having seen what it feels like, I could just be extra mean to people, to you, to little kids, but now I know how much that hurts, and how just really awful it feels. And even though I know I've hurt you way worse than that feels, you still…"

"I'm still willing to give you a chance to change."

"Yeah," Dudley agreed. "The way Mom and Dad treat you isn't right."

"I know, but I've got Padfoot now, so it's not as bad."

"Why do they treat you like that?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. I imagine it has something to do with the fact that my mom went to Wizarding school and Petunia didn't."

"Why would you say that?"

"That's always where the arguments start, isn't it? School."

"Yeah, I guess," Dudley agreed as they started to jog again. 

After a while, they stopped again. Dudley took out a bottle of water, as he'd learned to keep one on him pretty much at all times now. It helped with the hunger pangs and was also good since he was exercising more and sweating more. 

"You doing ok, Dudley?"

Dudley nodded. "I'm actually getting to the point where this feels good, even though it feels bad, you know?"

"Yeah, it took a couple of months of drills with Oliver for me to really get into it."

They started off again. 

* * *

It was Monday evening, and Dudley had been doing everything in his power to be out of the house as much as possible over the last two days. He was home for his strictly regimented meals, and all of his friends' parents had been informed to not feed him on pain of Petunia's wrath, which was a pretty awful thing. They had just finished up one such dinner, and Petunia had put Dudley on a bathroom scale that she'd acquired since he needed to lose so much weight.

"Well, I'd say you're doing very well, Dudley, five pounds off already."

He had nodded stoically and taken this in stride. "Hey, Harry, you and Padfoot want to go with me up to the store? I could use someone to run with."

“Oh you’re big lads, you can jog to the Tesco on your own," grumbled Padfoot.

Dudley went white. "Wh--"

"He's a magic dog," Harry defended him, throwing a glare at his Godfather who didn't care a whit.

"Do all magic dogs talk?"

"He's the only one I've met, I don't know, but he's right, we can make it by ourselves. We don't need him."

"Do most magical beasts talk?"

"No, not really." 

"Then why is it normal for him to talk?"

"Because he talks. I don't know."

* * *

Dudley was up early the next morning before even Harry and Sirius were up. "Harry," Dudley said, having barged into Harry's room uninvited. Harry grabbed his glasses and put them on. 

"What now, Dudley?"   
  


"Why is there a man in Padfoot's bed?"

"Sirius," Harry said, exasperated, and Sirius promptly turned back into Padfoot.

"What-what's going on?"

"Ok, if I tell you what's going on, you have to promise not to tell your mum and dad."

"Fine," Dudley said faintly, sitting in the chair at the desk.

"Padfoot isn't a dog, he's my godfather."

"What do you mean he's your godfather?"

"Well, he was a wanted criminal even though he didn't actually kill anyone."

  
"Why is he a wanted criminal?"   
  


"Well, I think at this point it's mostly because they are upset because he broke out of Wizard jail."

"Why did he break out of wizard jail?"

"He saw the person that he was supposed to have killed alive and he wanted to kill him."

"Of course," Dudley said. "So, wait, does that mean that the other day that 'Uncle Gerald' was actually the dog?"

"Yes," Harry nodded. 

Sirius morphed back into himself. "I understand that this is a lot to take in, but perhaps this discussion would be better served on perhaps Thursday between the interesting parts of the Quidditch match I got the three of us tickets to?"

"Yes, fine," Dudley said weakly. "Thursday. I'm going to go get breakfast."

"How much should we tell him?"

"Why should we keep anything from him, I mean, he already knows the worst of it, he might as well know the whole sordid story."

Sirius nodded. "He seems like a good enough chap now that he's a bit more on the straight and narrow."

"He certainly has been a bit different since he got back this summer. I think the teasing got to him more than he wants to admit," Harry shoved the covers off himself. "Well, anyway, I've gotten about a quarter of my homework done, I would love to go celebrate with a sundae up at Florean's, what do you say?"

"Well, bring some of that with you and you can work on it while you are there, and sure." 

Harry found some clothes for himself for breakfast and came down the stairs followed closely by Padfoot. "Good morning, Aunt Petunia."

"Good morning," she agreed absently. "Here," she said, handing him a parfait glass; Dudley already had one. It was crunchy cereals and tangy yogurt and several kinds of berries. Mostly berries but enough of the other to give substance.

"Thanks," he said, and didn't mention feeding Padfoot. Padfoot just sighed and laid down on the sofa. He ate his breakfast and washed the parfait glass. "I won't be home for lunch, I'm going out with Padfoot for the day," he said. 

Petunia nodded but didn't say anything, and Dudley had already left for parts unknown.

Once out of sight of the house, Sirius turned back into himself, and with a wave of his wand and the " _ Multicorfors,"  _ spell, the less-suspicious looking Gerald White was there. "Well, come on then. Let's get to London, I'm hungry." 

"Alright then," Harry agreed and took Sirius's hand and they apparated to London.


	6. Maths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is Quidditch and Trigonometry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry, life is distracting, but NaNoWriMo has enticed me to work on fics.

* * *

It was Thursday, and Harry and Dudley were both up early, excitedly eating breakfast before the next first-round game. "So, Uncle Gerald," Harry asked conversationally, "Who's playing today?"

"This is Bulgaria vs Spain. This should be a pretty good match," he announced with some relish.

"So, what matches did we miss before the end of school?" Harry asked.

"Scotland and Wales have both been knocked out, and Norway beat France. Wales was beaten by Uganda."

"That sounds terrible," Harry agreed.

"And Scotland was beaten by Luxembourg. Luxembourg!"

"So the tournament hasn't been particularly kind to the Isles," Dudley agreed.

"Well, Ireland is still in. They play," Sirius consulted a copy of the Daily Prophet, "Japan in 2 weeks, after England vs Transylvania next week."

"Why are the tournaments on Thursday?"

"Probably because it's fairly convenient to let people out on Friday if they want to go, especially if the game goes long, so you have a fair amount of people on Thursdays, and if there's reason, then the people can start gathering on later days. They are scheduled a week apart because of the possibility of a game running several days."

Dudley cleared his throat. "So, um, about what we were talking about the other morning."

"Ah, yes, so," Sirius started, "I was James's best friend back in school, as you already know Harry."

"James is your Dad, right Harry?"

Harry nodded. "They had other friends, but that's not super important right this second."

"True," Sirius continued, "There were four of us, five with Lily. She didn't really get much involved with us until about our fifth year. We were a rather rowdy bunch of boys. Did you know that your grandparents let me move in with them and James after fifth year?"

"Really? You knew my grandparents?"

"Well, yes. Fleamont and Euphemia Potter. They were much older than normal parents, and they doted on James fairly endlessly. I think they had both given up before he was born."

"What happened to them?"

"A tragic love story to be sure. Just weeks after seeing that James was in good hands--they adored Lily--and they attended the wedding, they both were taken by Dragon Pox."

"What's Dragon Pox?" asked Dudley.

"A fairly rare disease that one can acquire from contact with dragons," Sirius explained, "Your skin turns green and you get big bumps that eventually scar. It's a fairly terrible disease if you survive, but, older witches and wizards who get it tend to not make it to the other side. Some younger wizards who end up catching it either don't show symptoms at all or just on their toes."

"Why does it show up on their toes?"

Sirius shrugged. "Anyway, Montie and Phe were lovely people and they would have adored you. I'm actually really sorry for you that you didn't get to meet them. For that matter, Lily's parents would have loved you as well, but they died, too. Something Muggle and ordinary, but Lily didn't want to talk about it."

"Mum doesn't talk about it either," Dudley said. "I'm not sure what happened to either of my grandparents, I know I've never really known any of them."

"So, where was I?" Sirius asked, "Ah, yes. So I was best friends with your mum and dad, Harry. And there were a lot of issues with You-Know-Who and for their protection, the Order decided that they needed to be under more protection, and what the Order knew was that I was to be their Secret Keeper. We were very much still kids then, you have to understand. You were barely a year old, and James and Lily, and me and Remus and Severus and Peter, all of us were only 21. We were so full of ourselves and…" he trailed off in thought then shook his head after a few moments, "Anyway, I changed the plans at the last moment. It wasn't that I didn't want to be their Secret Keeper, but I thought that someone in the Order was feeding information to You-Know-Who. I would have never thought that it was Peter. I was the one who convinced James and Lily to change the Secret Keeper for the Fidelius Charm. It was my fault that Peter was able to just turn them over. I would have died to protect them, and I thought that Peter felt the same way. I was so stupid back then."

"It wasn't your fault," Harry said.

"What's a Secret Keeper do?"

* * *

"Well, they keep someone's secret, in this case, we locked up the cottage at Godric's Hollow so that I, or rather Peter, was the only person who could see it, and get in. It was supposed to keep them safe."

"So, I know you guys know, but who is 'You-Know-Who?'"

"Well," Sirius said, "To understand what's going on now in the Wizarding world, you have to understand what was going on then."

They paused for a moment as Ron and Hermione approached. "Have we missed anything?"

"Not really, and I haven't been watching all that hard. We are giving Dudley the crash course in the Wizarding World."

"Why?"

"Why not?"

"So, where are you at in the story?"

"The night You-Know-Who lost."

"Oh," said Ron, "I see."

"Anyway, as I was saying before I was interrupted," Sirius said, "Peter was the Secret Keeper because I thought that Lily and James and Harry would be safer because everyone in the Order thought that I was the one who held their secret, and if I was captured, I wouldn't be able to give that information up, even if I would have, which I would not have. I would have died rather than give up their secret. But I knew that Peter was their Secret Keeper and no one else would have believed me after Halloween night. I went to check on things on Halloween, things had been building up to something big on that night, and there were prophecies being thrown about, and it was a terrible time to be a wizard.

"And the house had pretty much been flattened by the blowback from the spell."

"Why are you talking around this, I can't understand what you are talking about," Dudley complained.

Harry shook his head. "You-Know-Who was a very bad wizard, and he killed my parents and he tried to kill me, it gave me my scar," he said. "I was just a baby, but she shielded me with some magic that I still don't understand the extent of. And by the time that Sirius showed up, Dumbledore had already been there and gone and Hagrid was there, you remember Hagrid," Harry said pointedly.

Dudley gulped and went a shade paler. "I remember."

"And I knew what I had to do," Sirius said, "And it was terrible and I didn't think I would live through it and frankly, I didn't care. I had to go find Peter and kill him. And I tried. I left my Motorbike for Hagrid to use."

"He still has that around somewhere," Harry said, "He came to get me on it for Hogwart's first year."

"Oh, good. Anyway, so I was captured for the death of Peter Pettigrew and thrown in Azkaban, and that was that. I got out last year to hunt down Peter, and while ultimately unsuccessful, we were able to prove that he was still alive, and that was good enough to get the ministry off my back and let me hang around with Harry and that's good enough for me."

"So," Dudley wrinkled his forehead in concentration, "Why are you all so frightened of this guy that you won't even say his name?"

"Well, I will," Harry said, "But we are kind of in public and it would draw more attention than I want right now."

Hermione shook her head. "He's Wizard Hitler."

Dudley lit up in understanding and Ron and Sirius both just looked confused. "So what does he want?"

"To get rid of all the Muggle-born Witches and Wizards; people like me, your Aunt Lily, people who didn't know they had magic until they got their letters."

"Like Harry didn't," Dudley agreed.

"Well, yes, for all intents and purposes I am functionally Muggle-born even though both my Mom and Dad were Magical. But my Dad was pure blood from way back, so I don't get the same kind of discrimination that Hermione does, even though I know even less than she does about the Wizard World because she reads everything she can get her hands on and I have, well, better things to do with my time."

"Well said, Harry," Hermione agreed.

"Well, I do read a little in my spare time because if I didn't I wouldn't be able to hold down a conversation with you," he said. Hermione gave him a wan smile.

"So there's this big evil bad wizard, and he wants to keep the wizarding world as separate from the muggle world as possible, and he tried to kill Harry once but he failed but he did kill Aunt Lily and Uncle James, who was a pure-blooded wizard from an old wizarding family…"

"Who married a Muggle-born Witch," Sirius agreed, "That was his crime. Oh, and the prophecy, can't forget the prophecy."

"Right, a baby born on the last day of July will be his undoing or some nonsense."

"He tried to kill you because of some prophecy?" Dudley looked suitably horrified.

"Yeah, it was going to be either me or Neville, guess who got lucky."

"Is he still coming after you?"

"Yeah, he still wants me dead."

"Why is Wizard Hitler still trying to kill you?"

"Something in the prophecy I suppose. I don't know really. I mean, it might just be me at this point."

"You? What did you do?"

"Let's see, first I stopped him from getting the Sorcerer's stone and coming back from his mostly ghost state, then we stopped him from unleashing the Basilisk on the school, and killed it, and while we were at it proved that Hagrid hadn't killed anyone back when he was in school and that Aragog was innocent. This last year there wasn't a lot going on with You-Know-Who, but we did have the thing with Peter Pettigrew and the whole mess trying to find Sirius Black."

Dudley sat back and thought for a little while. "Shit," he said finally. "I'm going to have to up my workout routine."

"Dudley, You aren't going to punch Voldemort out," Harry said with a sidelong glance at his cousin.

"Not with these wimpy biceps I'm not."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Dudley."

"Well, I'm not," he said petulantly. After a little while, the conversation about Voldemort having run its course, and the game actually getting pretty interesting, Dudley spoke up again, "So, what do they teach you in that wizard school of yours?"

"The first few years are pretty standard, but you get to start choosing SOME electives in third year," he said, with a pointed look at Hermione, who blushed slightly and smoothed down her robes. "We take Potions with Professor Snape and Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall, and Defense against the Dark Arts, and I don't have any idea who is going to be our teacher next year since we can't have Professor Lupin back."

"Whyever not?"

Hermione interjected, "Two reasons, first there's a curse put on the position by You-Know-Who, and second because if the picture of Peter Pettigrew ever comes to light for whatever reason, it also shows Professor Lupin turning into a werewolf."

"What's wrong with werewolves?" Dudley asked.

"The usual prejudices. They are big, scary raving monsters a day or two a month. But there's a potion now to make them tame during their time of the month."

"Do they have one of those for girls?" Dudley deadpanned, "Asking for a friend." Harry nearly snorted water out his nose.

Hermione opened her mouth in shock and then closed it again, "I do not think that a wolfsbane potion would help with your mother, her problems are much deeper than her cycle."  
"Now, Hermione, that was excessively venomous," Harry said, trying, mildly, to defend Petunia.

"No, Harry, I think it's about right," Sirius said, chuckling. "I would think her a Witch if I didn't know better, and a Black Witch to boot. You've met my cousin, Narcissa, have you not?"

"Uh, maybe?"

"She married Lucius Malfoy?"

"Oh, Draco's Mom. Yeah, I have met her," Harry agreed. "Yeah, she and Aunt Petunia would be a pair, I agree."

"Now, her sister Andromeda, she's a reasonable Witch. My favorite cousin, actually. She got married and I think they had a little girl, well, maybe not so little anymore. I think she may have graduated right before you started school."

"Who did she marry?"

"Oh, some Muggle-born, uh, Ted something, I never actually met him," he said. "They got married without the blessing of the Black family, so she got burned from the tapestry."

Harry frowned at Sirius confused, but let the comment go. "So, maybe we should invite them to our little group?"

Sirius shrugged. "We will probably be in touch soon enough. If they aren't members of the Order, they probably will be soon enough. I don't know, though, because we haven't really had need of the Order lately, but I expect we will soon."

Hermione chimed in, "Are you talking about the Order of the Phoenix that opposed You-Know-Who the first time around?"

"How exactly do you fit all of the information that is inside your head inside your head?"

She shrugged. "I have been called a Very Bright Witch."

"I see."

"And I read a lot."

"Hermione is really very smart," Ron agreed.

"I see," said Sirius, and turned back to Dudley. "So, what else can we explain to you?"

"Um, I don't know what I don't know, you know?"

"I understand," Harry said. "I mean, I don't know how much more you would want to know, really."

Dudley shrugged and they turned their attention back to the game, which Bulgaria won handily.

* * *

They settled down at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour and after assurances to Dudley that it was magical ice cream, and would not harm his diet, they all dug into large sundaes. "So, we've told you what our school is like, what do they teach you at Muggle School?" Ron asked.

"Oh, well, buttering egos, the art of the schmooze, English, Trigonometry, the usual."

Ron scrunched up his face. "What's Trigonometry?"

"You guys take Maths classes, right?"

"What, no, why would we do that?"

Dudley's jaw dropped. "Can I go to Wizard School? I hate maths."

"No, Dudley, you would have had to have gotten a letter the year you turned 11, like Harry did," Hermione said.

"Oh. Well, anyway, I don't think my parents would go for it anyway. So, no maths? How do you know how to do...whatever it is you end up doing with high maths?"

"Well," Hermione said, "My parents have made sure that I had regular books so that I could do regular learning along with the wizard learning."

"Oh, so do you have a Trigonometry book?"

"Of course," she said and Dudley nodded over the sundae. And so for several weeks between Dudley and Hermione, both Harry and Ron were given a decent education in higher maths.


End file.
